Rat Watching

For the past couple of months Gypsy has become obsessed with the sport of Rat Watching. This first occurred when a couple of rats took up residence in the roof of the carport at the back door. In the evenings they would put on a show of tap dancing, juggling and tightrope walking that kept Gypsy glued to the bathroom window for hours. Soon the other cats noticed the nightly show so you would find Peaches sitting entranced in the window and occasionally Demelza who fell off the window sill in horror one morning when a friend unexpectedly walked past.

Unfortunately one of the rats disappeared a week or so ago so Ratty is now a widower who believes the show must go on and has taken to solo expressive dancing ala Martha Graham. Not only does he entertain the cats he comes out to say hello to me, hanging down over the rafters and staring hypnotically in his guise of the Great Rattini, master magician. Usually the sight of a ratus horribilis would send me screaming for cover (especially as I've convinced myself he's going to launch forth one day and drop on my head as a grande finale) but Ratty resembles a Beatrix Potter rat, all ears and expressive eyes so now I don't even have the heart to lay poison for him.


Sadly he believes the cats are his groupies, hanging round the back door for autographs and maybe a photo with him which they can upload on their blogs. The truth is Gypsy is waiting for him to slip and fall into her dinner bowl-"Ratatoulie" the ultimate in feline takeaways.