Sara the Cat is an only cat. She was not born without siblings, but once she came to live with us, she rarely saw other humans, let alone other creatures. She has heard the cats next-door through the walls (they might actually be good friends who chat regularly, chi sa?), and smelled them maybe after L came back from looking after them when their flatmates went away. But she is THE only cat, and enjoys it thoroughly.
Today, however, I think was the first time that she met Mocha and Cartesio whisker to whisker. We neighbours were exchanging seasonal conversation on the landing, and Mocha decided to pop her head in our front door, as seen above. After a cautious exchange of sniffing, Mocha then dashed back inside her own home.
Cartesio, however, was not so shy. Sara the Cat had retreated under the bed at the far end of the flat, to recover, I suppose, from the shock of this meeting, and to reflect upon what it all meant. So our marmalade friend swaggered into the living-room, and had a good look round. After inspecting the underneaths of both sofas, he then headed for the bedroom. I heard a sound a bit like crackling gas escaping suddenly from a valve, and ran to see if Sara the Cat was ok. She was fine. Cartesio had vanished.
A few minutes later, L came back from the landing and reported that Cartesio had found his way home. Phew. I guess Sara the Cat was reminding us all of the lockdown, and that now is not the time to make new friends. After all, we are already blessed with her.
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