Three years ago, some new neighbours moved in. I had had my tangles with the previous neighbours, due to them not letting me use the outside water tap when the conservatory was being built and my mum coming over to look after my cats and getting the man over to get rid of a dead bird. The new neighbours were supposed to be a fresh start and a chance to enjoy the kind of happy neighbour relations you see on TV.
However, as this blog article in 2010 shows, it didn’t start well and it only went downhill from there. When they moved in, they put their furniture upside down on the lawn and I couldn’t resist taking a photo to show you guys and well… he saw me.
This possibly left him with the impression that I was a bit odd, certainly he never talks to me if he can avoid it – going so far as to ignore me when I’m two feet from him shouting “Good day neighbour!” This state of affairs, while far from ideal, isn’t as poor as it sounds though. The reason is that when he does talk, it sounds like a chav machine gun gone out of control. So essentially, like a machine gun with ‘Bench’ written on it’s arse.
He is a bit nutty really (the man neighbour) but they’ve just had a baby – I call him ‘Angry Baby’ ‘cus I don’t know his name, but he screams a lot – and the woman seems okay-ish apart from yelling vile stuff occasionally and almost at random, so it’s all good.
Yesterday, they were out in the garden. This was unwise in my eyes, as they were baking their newborn son in the hot midday sun while sunbathing on a towel and then here came a horrific racket, the kind that can only mean there is a cat fight in progress.
Pretty soon lady neighbour was screaming at the top of her lungs (I guess her son gains his screaming skills from her) shouting ‘Timmy!’ (I presume Timmy is their ugly, goggle-eyed, skinny black cat) and the man neighbour was shouting back at her ‘Just let them get on with it!’
I don’t agree with next-door man’s method of dealing with cat fights and neither, apparently did Mrs next-door, because she huffed off inside, slamming the back door behind her.
The fight noises yammered on, yowling and crashing into dustbins and other noisy collisions and eventually stopped.
It has all gone quiet and I was relaxing around 45 minutes later when a knock came at the front door. My other neighbour (a thankfully sane and quiet woman who has a very messy garden popular with the local cat population) had come round to say that my lovely cat, Lucas, was in her garden acting strangely and panting like a dog.
Stress! I called him in and he came slowly, shaking like a leaf and with small injuries and fur hanging off him.
It was my baby that nasty Timmy had been beating up next door!!!
I brought Lucas inside and comforted him but some while later he was still breathing very heavily while lying on his side and panting with his mouth open and his tongue out. I couldn’t bear to see him like that so called the Vets and took him in. The vet lady was lovely and gentle with him – giving him a full examination and taking his temperature in the normal way (eek). She said that he was physically fine apart from a few bumps and cuts and that he was probably just “very stressed out after his scrap”. She gave him an antibiotic jab and another anti-inflammatory one.
£50 lighter, I brought him home for a snack and a sleep and he seemed fine, relieved to be home and not panting any more.
I was considering getting a big pump-action water pistol so I could shoot little Timmy whenever he showed his annoying google-eyed face in my garden, but Thom suggested that a crossbow might be a faster and more decisive alternative.
Needless to say, I’ve told Lucas not to go and play with the strange people next door any more and he assures me he won’t.