Tail’s End
Set them free . . . within reason
That afternoon, I clicked Jonah into his harness and carried him into the back garden.
As I stretched on a lounger and closed my eyes, the cat jumped on to the sunbed next to mine. Purring and rolling ecstatically in the golden warmth, he invited me to rub his tummy. Like all good concubines, I obliged.
Half a tablet of cat Prozac had become part of his daily routine. He was still demented, charming and bossy but the medication had made a big difference to his ‘little problem’. He only sprayed these days if one of the black cats from down the road glowered through a window at him, or he caught someone packing a suitcase. Dad’s piano was still a source of unwholesome interest so, to the curiosity of visitors, it remained in its protective covering.
‘You’re a good boy, aren’t you?’ I said, as he lay on his side and slid his eyes shut.
Our feline seemed so calm and happy I decided to risk giving him what he’d always craved. He hardly seemed to notice when I undid the harness. We lay side by side, savouring the sunshine and each other’s company. He was free now, and he’d chosen to stay with me. Flattered, I closed my eyes and drifted into a haze.
Except I couldn’t relax entirely. Every few seconds I checked Jonah was still lying next to me. He appeared comatose. Once, when I opened one eye I caught him examining me with a piercing gaze, as though ascertaining whether I was asleep.
Pretending to doze, I watched the crafty creature check me out again. Satisfied I was unconscious, he sprang off his lounger, gave himself a congratulatory shake and trotted stealthily away. My heart sank as his tail disappeared around the side of the house.
Sighing at the thought of another neighbourhood gadabout, I rolled off the lounger and plodded after him. That cat couldn’t be trusted.
As I rounded the corner, he was pattering past the wheelie bins. Too far away for me to catch, even if I broke into a sprint.
‘Jonah!’ I whined. “Come back.”
The cat stopped in his tracks, turned his handsome face to me and blinked.
‘It would be nice if you stayed home,’ I said.
The feline hesitated. I waited for him to bolt. But, to my astonishment, he lay down on the path, rolled on his back and put his feet in the air as if to say, ‘You might as well come and get me.’
Bundling him into my arms, I kissed his furry forehead. In return he honoured me with a good-natured purr. He’d enjoyed the joke.
Cats and daughters. Let them roam a little.
But keep an eye on them.