I'd just hunkered down in bed with a good book last night when our peace was disturbed by an intermittent, high-pitched yowling. Being the guilt-ridden softie that I am I had to go and investigate, so off I trotted in my bed-wear and burkies to discover what all the fuss was about and hoping it was nothing gory. Bear in mind that it was about 11:30pm on the dark streets of Newham so I was half expecting to be arrested at any moment.
Anyway, the culprit turned out to be a kitten that had climbed up the net curtain and out of the glass louvers at the top of the window a couple of doors away (right) only to plop down onto the ledge with no way back - hence the plaintive catawalling (ooh, do you think that's where that phrase actually came from?). Meanwhile kitten number 2 is on the correct side of the window trying to attack the outsider through the glass with a fluffy paw.
So, to the rescue comes I. I clamber onto the window ledge - narrowly avoiding treading on said outsider as it launches itself desperately towards me - scoop the furry bundle up with one hand and pop it back through the top of the window where it looks at me questioningly. I'm hanging on to the ledge for dear life as I don't want to end up in a flower bed in the middle of the night and am in no mood for nonsense so I nudge it further into the window and watch it half fall, half clamber back down the inside of the curtain to join it's fighting friend. Mission accomplished and no baseball bat wielding homeowner intent on killing me. Yay!
I do hope this flat did in fact contain 2 cats and the owner didn't come home and wonder how they'd mysteriously gained an extra one. Hmmm. . .
NOTE: no cats were harmed during the writing of this blog. The true identity of the kitten in question has been witheld in case of legal proceeding.