Cat in the Wall

When we moved house, some of the drywalling in the basement needed replacing. There was one particular section where a piece about seven-feet high and ten-feet across needed removing. The workmen had finished most of the job, but there was still a small section about two-feet high, but five feet above the ground, that hadn’t been finished. We assumed that neither Freddie nor Gemma would be interested in investigating the dark recesses behind the wall. Of course, we were wrong.

About 7pm, I put some food out for the cats and Gemma came running for her food, but Freddie didn’t. I immediately became suspicious and went downstairs with a torch. Sure enough, the beam of light picked out a forlorn looking Freddie who had jumped down behind the wall and now seemed stuck. I tried to grab him by leaning over the wall, but my arm wasn’t long enough. Freddie was miaowing and trying to get out of his predicament by clawing at the wall.

I had an idea that if I could get Freddie to climb into a bag with long handles then I could pull him out from behind the wall. I had such a bag and as I just taking it out of the cupboard there was a tremendous crash accompanied by the sound of glass smashing and a table collapsing. Freddie had decided to take matters into his own paws, as it were. When I went back downstairs, Freddie was sitting on a chair trying to look innocent. The dining table was semi-collapsed and the reading lamp was lying on the ground with its glass cover shattered into hundreds of pieces. One of the dining chairs was lying on its side.

I think what had happened was Freddie had leapt out from behind the walling and landed on the lamp, which had fallen on to the table. The switch on the lamp had gouged a three-inch gash in the surface. The impact had caused the table to come apart slightly – it was one of those tables where sections could be added or taken out – and one of the leaves had fallen onto a chair. The rest of the table had then collapsed inwards. The glass cover for the bulb had smashed on the floor. Quite how Freddie had remained unscathed was almost miraculous, but he had. As I swept up the glass he was casually washing himself and when I started to put the dining table back together, he decided it was time for him to eat and he ran upstairs for his dinner.

Published by Julian Worker

Julian was born in Leicester, attended school in Yorkshire, and university in Liverpool. He has been to 94 countries and territories and intends to make the 100 when travel is easier. He writes travel books, murder / mysteries and absurd fiction. His sense of humour is distilled from The Marx Brothers, Monty Python, Fawlty Towers, and Midsomer Murders. His latest book is about a Buddhist cat who tries to help his squirrel friend fly further from a children's slide.

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