The Chicken House Blog

Forsham’s take on chickens and life in general

“Just One Night”

It was snowing hard, the garden was filling up, the harsh edges being smoothed under a blanket  of the white stuff.  Then and now, as a so called adult I get a childish thrill  watching the snow cascade from out of the heavens, especially at night thought the light an unveiled window.

A  lone set of foot pints came in from out of the darkness of this cold winters night.  Copper Cat (she had a brother called Tommy )  was  holding centre stage, framed as she was in the light of the kitchen window,  bleating and crying,  a sorry looking spectacle. Already she was up to her belly  in snow and  gathering a measurable ‘drift’  betwixt her ears. Copper Cat  had stables, the hay store, a goat shed and the garage to sleep in …… she was  pulling all the strings  to be let in !. 

Unsurprisingly Cindy and the kidlet  started to  harangue me to let the pathetic critter into the house, “ for just one night”

I have lots of  ‘life rules’ one being  that I don’t  let anything in the house that can lick its own ‘ jobby bits’ ! … trying to eat  breakfast whilst some critter is tonguing it’s  privates is a step too far…  I remained adamant ……. I  stood my ground………. I let the shyster in.

 Next morning  CC sat calmly at the door waiting to be let out, the snow had stopped, the garden was brilliantly white, and strangely tidy.  On opening  the door a small snow drift tumbled onto the cat and across the floor. Copper Cat  gave me a look that  was both accusing and vengeful. Without  a hint of  gratitude

the shyster  trotted  out onto the frozen snow  …”just one night”  I said, as she slowed to a saunter and showed me her penny bit! .

It became evident  that the bugger had not slept in the card board box supplied, a  mass of  hairs portrayed it had hunkered down on my work jumper,  which because of it unsavoury nature  was not allowed anywhere near the coat hooks,  destined always to be slung on the floor behind the backdoor. I hate pet hairs, so with a degree of disgust  I  pulled my jumper on  …..I had no option it was cold. Instantly a smell like no other was wafting around the kitchen . Cat crap!  that  bloody cat had shit, not simply on the jumper, that would have bad enough,  the dump was UP a sleeve.  The offending mess was now wiped a second time  up my arm as I took my cat haired and poo smeared jumper off.

That cannot have been anything else other than deliberate!  To gain maximum effect that cat must have diligently backed itself up the sleeve. Even now I can imagine the shysters smug expression  as it relieved itself,  thinking ………   “ just one night”.

One Response to ““Just One Night””

  1. Absolutly brilliant, I could picture the whole story, I’m still smilling. We have been adopted by a stray who has taken up residence in the barn, no not even for one night…..

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