[m i a o w] the cat

A few days ago we began to let the cats out of their cat home for the first time. They have been in their cathome for a year, and during the past month or two it seems as if they have finally begun to get disenchanted with their incarceration. They applied to Amanda Vanstone for a visa on humanitarian grounds, which, startlingly enough, was immediately denied - so it was up to us. I bought them collars with bells (even though about fifty percent of the birdlife here is cat-size or greater) and, on a day where we were both working outside on the house, we set them free. They both were completely blissful, though they expressed their wonder in different ways. Saf walked with me around the perimeter of the acre, climbed some trees and responded to my instructions (’Stop - dogs live there’, ‘Stop - stay behind the gate’), whereas Mow (who, it must be admitted, probably has more fur than brain) shot under the house, prowled through some undergrowth and finally found what he was seeking. As he’s only ever lived in the inner city with a courtyard garden, Mow was looking for… CONCRETE! He managed to get on top of the water tank and went into paroxysms of beatification.