We are having our bedroom painted at the moment, which means we are currently sleeping in the spare room. The spare room is where the cat-flap is, and also, where the cats’ litter tray usually is, but we have moved it to the study since, you know, not big fans of sleeping in the same room as cat shit.

Anyway, last night, I was just drifting off to sleep (J was at the pub with a friend), Milly was chilling on the windowsill and Molly had popped outside for a bit of a prowl. So, there I was, happily dreaming of lovely things, when I was brutally awoken by the most ear-splitting feline yowling and screaming, and two seconds later Molly burst through the cat-flap, tail three times its normal size, and pelted through the flat like she was on fire. Seconds after that, she scampered back into the spare room and over to where the litter tray normally is, but where it currently wasn’t, because we’d moved it to the study. And then we had the following conversation*:

Molly: (Wild, staring eyes) Where is the litter tray? WHERE IS THE LITTER TRAY?!
Me: Oh, the litter tray, we moved it. Here I’ll take you.

I scoop Molly up, carry her to the study, and plonk her in the tray.

Molly: Oh sweet mother of God that’s good.

Repellent stench fills study.

Me: Molly, did you actually just literally shit yourself from fear?
Molly: What? No! I needed to go. It wasn’t fear. I was not afraid.
Me: So what was that outside? Did you not just seriously lose a fight with a neighbourhood cat?
Molly: (Nonchalantly licking random bit of fur) I did not lose, it was a tactical retreat.
Me: Right…
Molly: I’m going to bed.
Me: Fine. Come on, we’re sleeping in the spare room tonight.

I scoop Molly up again, and carry her back into the spare room.

Molly: (struggling in my arms like I am carrying her to a boiling vat) What? THE SPARE ROOM? I cannot go in there! I CANNOT GO IN THERE EVER AGAIN FOR IT CONTAINS THE PORTAL OF DOOM!
Me: Portal of what? Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a cat-flap. I won’t let the scary neighbourhood cat come through it I promise.
Molly: What good are you, puny human? You didn’t see it! It was a BEAST! A BEAST I TELL YOU! I am going to hide under the sofa. Possibly for the rest of my life.
Me: Fine. Coward.

Molly disappears, I go back to bed.

Then, ten minutes later.

Molly: Mummy?**
Me: Mmmmmf? What?
Molly:Mummy. Can I sleep with you tonight? Like, on you? I don’t feel safe. The beast is OUT THERE.
Me: Fine. But no loud purring.

Half an hour later, J comes home.

Molly: DADDY DADDY DADDY THERE WAS A BEAST! AND I KILLED IT! FOR I AM THE BRAVE, NOBLE AND FEARLESS MOLLY-THE-CAT. Stroke me. I deserve the strokes of the just.
J: ?
Me: Molly had a fight with a neighbourhood cat. She crapped herself and then came crying to me. I think she’s recovered now.
Molly: Shut it you. I never liked you much anyway. HI DADDY!

*I don’t actually have a talking cat. But she’s very expressive.
** Yes we are the cats’ Mummy and Daddy. Yes this makes us fully deserving of ridicule. Please, feel free.