Most nights I go for a walk and the cat I look after accompanies me. I used to say I take my cat for a walk. Never again.
Tonight, I noticed that Sam was not as keen as usual and cracked on the pace as we turned for home. I was amused, and must confessed I mocked him. As he outstripped me down the road to home, I laughed. I said things like ‘Had enough eh tubbo? Got your slitty old eyes fixed on your food-bowl? Guess it isn’t muscle, as I thought. You’re a bit of a dumpling, dear boy. Ha ha ha!
Ten yards from home I caught up with him. He stopped and turned at me, tail thrashing, fixed me with an evil look and spat.
Then he ran past our front gate and vanished under the neighbour’s campervan. It took ten minutes of apologetic coaxing to persuade him to come out. Another five before he would let me touch him.
Make of it what you will. I’ll never mock or ridicule and animal again, even in jest.
Play With Strangers 