When
I used to travel to work in my car I used to pass through what became the largest new housing development in
Europe.
At
the time I passed through the development the project was nearing its
completion.
It
took more than ten years to complete and it was the properties on the farthest
fringe of the development which I witnessed from ground breaking to occupation.
During
the building they looked like little rows of shoe boxes stood on end and I
often chuckled to myself and wonder who would want to live in them, well five
years later it was my wife and I.
That
was some years ago now in that small almost newly built two up two down in a
quiet Surrey cul-de-sac and I have to say we have never been happier than we
were then.
We
had great neighbours, who we are still in contact with to this day even though
we have all scattered to the four winds.
One
of the things that brought us together was our cats.
We
had a black cat called Berry, short for Blackberry, who was given to us when
she was a kitten by my brother in law as a wedding present and we still have
her today although she’s getting on a bit.
When
we lived in the shoebox she had a very embarrassing habit of invading other cat
owners homes when we were out and we would return home from work to find her
peering at us from the comfort of someone else’s house sitting on the window
sill or on the back of their sofa.
But
that was nothing compared to our next-door neighbours Carole and Johns cat
Tabitha.
When
we first knew them they had two cats Madeline and Emily who were both great
buddies with our Berry but after Emily was killed on the road and Madeline ran
away they decided they would get a rescued cat from an animal rescue centre.
Well,
what they got was a tabby called Tabitha who was very sweet but suffered with
psychological problems.
It
was a very nervous and timid creature who was very suspicious of everyone but
what none of us suspected was its darker side.
Well
while the humans were all at work and Berry was sleeping in someone else’s
house Tabitha roamed the local area indulging in her particular passion namely
stealing from the neighbours.
She
stole knickers, pants, socks and the occasional bra and when our first son was born,
she even took bibs and booties.
The
troubled animal preyed on the unsuspecting locals stealing from washing lines
wash baskets and clothes airers though thankfully even with her psychological
problems she only stole clean items nothing soiled or unfresh.
We
were all oblivious to this dastardly crime putting the loss of missing items
down to mischievous house elves.
The
dastardly crime only came to light when John was clearing a room prior to
decorating when he discovered nests of other people’s underwear.
This
could have been awkward, and john might well have had some explaining to do it
carol had found the pantie collection before he did.
I’m
sure it was the cat.
