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The Glamour Cat

by Beverley, Napier, New Zealand


The Persian sat in the driveway of a house just along the street. She was drop-dead gorgeous - her coat a bouffant the colour of whipped cream and huge eyes of glittering topaz. The look of disdain on her pug face told you that she knew she was a queen among cats - a true Glamour Cat. Ollie had just recovered from his love affair with the foreman of the road-gang and was ready for more romance. Normally he tries to murder any alien cat in sight - but this time it was different. He walked over the road and literally threw himself at the feet of the Glamour Cat. I felt quite ashamed of him. He stretched himself out and grovelled in the dust, uttering little crooning noises. It was nauseating. He yawned to show her his teeth (he hasn't got many) and finally wriggled up to her on his tum to sniff her. He got what he deserved - a swift, ruthless clip on the chops that drew blood.

The woman of the house was coming down the drive and I thought I'd better wander over to introduce myself. "You have a lovely cat," I enthused. I bent to pat the Glamour Cat and got a nasty scratch for my pains.

"She's a bit temperamental," apologized the woman, who introduced herself as June. "er, your cat is a neuter?"

I nodded and June looked relieved. "I want to mate Sheba to a pedigree cream male," she said. "I thought I'd just let her have one litter before getting her speyed. But it is a nuisance keeping her locked up a lot of the time."

"Pedigree cream kittens would be lovely," I agreed.

Poor Ollie, it didn't matter what he did, he couldn't win the heart of the Glamour Cat. He learned to stay out of sloshing distance. His gifts of mice and other small creatures were regarded with scorn.

One day something terrible happened. A mangy black and white cat with crumpled ears and one closed eye appeared. The fight with Ollie was violent but mercifully short and was over before I could intervene. Ollie shot by me and into the house and sat on the window-sill, licking his wounds. Across the road an amazing scene was taking place. The Glamour Cat was in love. She was kissing the intruder and acting like a shameless hussy. I comforted Ollie, "Never mind, she wasn't worth it," I soothed him.

I didn' see June or the Glamour Cat for a couple of months. But one day when I was walking past June called me in. "Would you like to see the kittens?" she asked.

The Glamour Cat was a lovely mother, tucked up with her babies; six of them - mostly black and white, with a tortie thrown in. June looked grim. "I don't know how it happened," she ground out, "but I'd like to murder the tom that did this!!"

I felt a rush of guilt. Without realising it I had seen the beginning of the illicit love affair between the Glamour Cat and the wandering tom.

When the kittens had gone to their new homes the Glamour Cat was speyed. She still sat in the driveway, looking down her nose at the world, but for Ollie the romance was over. As for the wandering tom - he'd had his wicked way with the Glamour Cat and we never saw him again.


Editor's note:

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