Cat Daddy and I are away at the moment, and the same chat-sitting friend who looked after Louis Catorze in July is looking after him again.
We went away utterly unconcerned and full of confidence that everything would go well; after all, one of the good things about Catorze is that, despite being a massive shite for us, he behaves for other people.
Or so we thought.
First of all, there was this (which, incidentally, took place just an hour after the chat-sitteur’s arrival):
Then there was this:
Note how polite she was being by saying “Louis or a friend” so as not to jump to conclusions.
He doesn’t have any friends. It was him.
After the initial shock had worn off, I requested photographic proof of the slaughter – not because I disbelieved what I’d been told but, rather, because I needed to see the full horror in order to reconcile it in my own head. Needless to say I wish I hadn’t asked, because it was an absolute bloodbath. There were three definite mice, along with a fourth, erm, thing which was either a butchered baby mouse or half an adult mouse. If the latter, we still don’t know where the other half is.
Oh. Mon. Dieu.
After directing our chat-sitteur to our supply of plastic bags, and instructing her to dispose of the hapless victims/pieces in the park bin across the road, Cat Daddy and I had a stiff drink and wondered how and why this could have happened. Catorze has never – NEVER – killed multiple mice in one night. He also only very rarely leaves them outside, preferring, instead, to leave them at the bottom of the stairs to be stepped on, or to bring them upstairs to our bedroom. Obviously we are glad that neither of those happened.
We are setting off back home later today, and we have no idea how we will bring ourselves to cuddle our cute, fluffy kittenalike knowing what he’s just done. We also don’t know how we will face the chat-sitteur again, but avoiding her for the rest of our lives might be tricky given that she, erm, lives just down the road.
louiscatorze.com 
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