Cats are supposed to lead a carefree life - stressed only by the need to get up from whatever horizontal surface they are currently snoozing on to go in search of the next tasty morsel to delight their discerning palates. Well, some cats maybe. Not quite so with my ginger moggie.

His life is fraught with problems of great moment and concern, some of which need forethought and decision, two things not high on his list of natural abilities (along with sense of balance and a head for heights, unfortunately).

Among these problems are - should he venture out through the cat flap at night, or is that SOMETHING lurking just outside on the step? (read on..) What are his humans up to? Can he get to the car door before I open it - in order that he can then elaborately pretend that he just happened to be there - even though he knows I've seen him gallumphing up up the road just seconds before. IS that something menacing, but invisible, on the carpet - or not? If he strains to keep his eyes open just two seconds longer, will it be worth.....zzzzzzzzz

Contributing to his handicaps is that when he was a baby he was rescued from starvation by a lady from the PDSA with a sense of mission and an eye dropper. So, when I got him as a tiny 6 week old kitten, he had not had any "street-cat" education. I have done my limited human best, but there are limits and his life must be fraught with a constant sense that there is a book of rules somewhere which no-one has shown him ( I know the feeling).

He bumbled along fairly well - fought off the local tough guys for his territory, got a torn ear and several wounds inflicted in his rear portions while obviously fleeing from same - until his life was complicated, and enriched, by a winning black and white girlie stray who moved in with us. She knew a plonker (and a neutered one at that) when she saw one. She lured him, enticed him, bemused him, boxed his ears, out-ran him, seduced his humans - and then allowed him to continue sharing her house.

She also rapidly taught him that if you sit on the stool near the refrigerator door chances are that you will get a nibble of something good. And that the cat flap is not just a snazzy window to look through, but an in-and-out device. However, he also found out that the same device could be fraught with danger at night - especially if a certain black and white lady chose to sit on the step outside and bat the flap right back in your face when you tried to go through it. He also learnt that if you linger crossing a trellis to sit atop a garage - a furry joker can run up behind you and do the moggie equivalent of "BOOOO!!" - thus causing dangerous wobble to legs and dignity.

However, aside from these small annoyances and ego pricks, she does let him boss her around sometimes, and he has gained a companion - even though she frequently gets him into "Go-on-I'll-hold-your-coat" fights. By and large they live very amiably together, and I often get the feeling that they talk about us behind our backs.

And after all, when you get right down to it - he is only in a similar position to the majority of the male population - he now lives with a female companion who is younger and faster on her feet than him, and who can out-smart him with consummate ease, any time that she chooses to.

[Previously published in 'Cat World']

(c) Thelma Mitchell 1995, 2001