My Neighbour Is Obsessed With My Pussy!

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My best friend and I often joke about being crazy cat ladies as we have a whopping five fluffy cats between us and simply adore our pets. It’s common knowledge that people collect animals to stave off loneliness or instead of having babies; yet my best friend is engaged to be married and I already have two children, so it’s perhaps a little more fitting to say that we’re cat ladies minus the crazy.

I’ve had my two cats Tobias and Rupert for 9yrs and 1yr respectively and they just have the cutest little characters – Toby is gentle and loving and Rupert is brave and adventurous. I’ve lost count of how many collars my kitties have had and lost over the years and often question how they take them off in the first place to lose them. 

But thanks to microchipping, even cats without collars can easily be returned to their owners with a simple swipe of a handheld device which lists the name, address and telephone owner of each fluffy souls responsible human.

So you can imagine my shock when my vet called to informed me my beloved Toby was needing urgent treatment at the clinic and as his owner I was being informed. Obviously I thought the worst, a cat fight, dog attack or car accident!? Every worst nightmare runs through your mind and I raced to the vets as fast as I could.

Poor little Toby looked at me from inside a cat carrier in the vets office sheepishly unable to make eye-contact. The vet explained that he’d had a severe reaction to a flea bite which had caused half of his face to blister up and rot away and he looked like something out of a horror film. She then asked me when the last time was that he was flea’d and which brand of flea treatment I was using.

I explained how Toby had stopped coming home, going from coming in and out of the house several times a day for food and tickles to suddenly staying away for two, three or four days at a time for no reason and without warning. It wasn’t like him at all and I’d knocked on my neighbours door to express my concerns when he’d missed his worming treatment one day by not coming home.

“You’ve not seen Toby anywhere have you?” I asked politely at my neighbours doorstep. “Who’s Toby?” She looked at me as if I’d told her I was the daughter of God sent to save mankind. “Toby, my 9yr old cat, you know? The one I’ve had the entire time you’ve lived next to me?” “Oh, you have cats do you?” I was baffled at her pretending to not know, but still I remained patient. “Yes, two cats. They sit on the fence between our houses everyday and sometimes howl at night when your girl cats are in season.” How could I say ‘I hear you calling Toby into your house and shaking biscuits to entice him you liar’ she knows his name, why lie?

“Oh, right. Well I’ll keep an eye out.” Wtf!? “Thank you, I don’t want him to miss his treatment.” No more than an hour later there was a knock at my door, crazy cat lady had Toby in her arms and he was flailing to get away! “I think I found your cat!” She shouted as Toby howled to be released and she threw him between my legs as he scarpered off up the stairs to safety. “Oh wow, I wasn’t expecting that! Where was he?” I raised an eyebrow finding it hard to believe she could have ‘found’ him so soon after our chat.

“He was in my kitchen, he must have snuck in.” But you don’t have a cat flap and all of your windows stay closed all winter so you’d have had to open the door to let him in? “How odd, I’ve been calling him all day.” I concluded, AKA I know you’ve had him locked in your house for days you psycho! “Well now you know who he is you’ll know where to return him in future.” I smiled politely, thanked her and closed the door.

“Can I ask how he got here in this state?” The vet paused. She told me she wasn’t allowed to give out private information but could tell me that it was a ‘concerned neighbour’. A concerned neighbour!? Crazy cat lady more like! I gave the vet her name, full address and explained how she’d taken my cat before and denied all knowledge of it. I showed her a picture of her house and told her how she’s a hoarder with bags of rubbish piled up everywhere, food and litter thrown around her garden attracting rats and her feral cats full of fleas with mangled fur. Crazy cat lady took my poor Toby, locked him in her dirty house where he became riddled with fleas and his face rotted away so she walked him to the vets and left me to foot the bill.

“She kidnapped my cat and allowed him to get sick!” I exclaimed. If she’d let him out he would have come straight home and had food, shelter and medication at home. I could have treated his flea bites or taken him to the vet soon instead she’s forced him to live like her and have half his face fall off. 

“How do I stop her from catnapping him again and denying it?” I asked with exasperation? “Never let him out again.” The vet sighed, “keep him as a house cat.” If somebody had kidnapped my children there’d be police helicopters and sniffer dogs scouring the town for them, but she’s taken my fur-baby and made him sick and I know she’ll do it again. I can’t get a search warrant to retrieve my kitty from crazy cat lady’s crusty cave every time Toby goes missing, but as advised by the vets, I’ve reported her to the RSPCA and am keeping Toby indoors indefinitely. 

It’s safe to say that any pleasantries and neighbourly love is well and truly quashed between us now. The moral of this story? Good pussy is hard to find so keep it on lock down!

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