Le bonheur de la bicyclette

Sadly it didn’t work out for the Black Cats in the League 1 play-offs, but Cat Daddy and I were lucky enough to score tickets for the Brentford-Swansea Championship play-off final in Wembley … and we won!

In other news: I have had my first session with Cat Daddy’s cycling friend, Gerard, and it was actually more fun than I’d imagined (although my expectations were quite low).

Gerard came to the house at 10am and, as I was wheeling out the Millennial Falcon, Louis Catorze emerged, screaming, from That Neighbour’s garden. (We had no idea what he was doing there. And, no, we didn’t even know he was out at The Front.)

He was thrilled to meet a new man and hurled himself at Gerard, who stroked him and commented on his soft fur. Absolutely nobody has said this before, EVER, and it was such a departure from the usual assumptions (that he’s a stray, that he’s 102 years old, that he’s suffering from some wasting disease and doesn’t have long to live, or possibly all three) that I didn’t know how to respond. Then, as Gerard was adjusting the saddle on my bike, the screaming restarted.

Me: “I’m going to have to let him into the house.”

Catorze: “Mwahhhhhhh!”

Gerard: “Nah, he’s fine.”

Catorze: “Mwahhhhhhh!”

Me: “You don’t understand: I don’t want him disturbing our neighbour. He does it all the time.”

Catorze: “Mwahhhhhhh!”

Gerard: “Your neighbour just needs to ignore it and tune out. I have.”

Catorze: “Mwahhhhhhh!”

Me: “…”

Anyway, adjusting the saddle took longer than expected. All the while Catorze remained on full volume, screaming his lungs out, whilst I shuffled and winced awkwardly. Cat Daddy must have heard him from indoors – he can’t possibly NOT have heard him – and was probably hooting with laughter, but had clearly decided that it was my problem and not his.

Ten minutes later:

Catorze: “Mwahhhhhhh! Mwahhhhhhh! Mwahhhhhhh! Mwahhhhhhh!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t take this anymore. I HAVE TO LET HIM BACK INTO THE HOUSE.”

Catorze: “Mwahhhhhhh!”

This time Gerard didn’t hesitate to agree.

He remarked that the screaming was “very effective” although this would suggest success in achieving some sort of goal, whereas we are yet to figure out the point of it all.

It would be good to be able to say “I won’t ever have to face Gerard again”, but he’s Cat Daddy’s friend AND I have a further two lessons booked with him, so the chances of that are slim-to-zéro.

Next time we’re meeting in the park. Let’s hope that Sa Maj doesn’t find a way of teleporting there.


20 thoughts on “Le bonheur de la bicyclette

  1. I have cats that seem to miss me while I’m gone but they aren’t very vocal about it. Although one does let me now when the Food Truck needs to make a stop. At least Girard seemed to be calm.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I knew it! Sa Maj wants you to attach a little basket on your beautiful Millennial Falcon so that you can take him for rides across town and show him off! That’s why he was screaming, and you didn’t even understand the poor baby! Poor, poor misunderstood baby!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. It occurs to me that perhaps Sa Maj was a tenor in a past life and his “arias” are his way of telling you that he was an opera star; he misses being on stage! You may be missing your chance to get rich…you write quite well and you have quite a cast already. Think Donnie, Blue, etc…😹

    Liked by 1 person

  4. You are really gifted at taking pictures of Sa Maj. About finding a way of teleporting, be cautious. Renting a drone could be enough.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Haha, Cat Daddy takes the best pictures of Le Roi. My camera work makes him look like some beast from another planet … which I suspect he is …


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