by Annette Bromley

Created on: October 21, 2010   Last Updated: October 25, 2010

CAT PATROL

You’d never know if you saw my cats stretched out across the back of the sofa or lounging in the bay window soaking up the sun.  You’d never know it to listen to them purr and sing.  You’d never know it when they are cuddled down beside you or curled contentedly in your lap while you are watching TV or reading a good book.   You’d never guess what they are really up to when they are snuggled in, one at the foot and one at the head of the bed at night like furry guardian angels but the cat patrol is always on duty, always on the alert.  You might think they are lazy old house cats, just pets but you’d be wrong.  They are much more than that.

They are attack cats, the cat patrol, guarding with a patience borne only by cats.  They wait, they watch, they crouch, they pounce, they kill swiftly and surely and sometimes they devour.  They are a SWAT team extraordinaire.  They will swat at almost anything.  Their mission, search and destroy all enemies.  Their names are Tux and Callie.  They are a team.  Their headquarters are in my home of which they now have complete control.  They give me orders and I obey, quite well most of the time. 

Of course I do.  I love my cats, I appreciate them.  They keep me safe from outside intruders.  They answer the door before I do and check out every visitor.  They stand by when the phone rings just in case and have even been known to do a disconnect if they suspect I am being harassed by a telemarketer.  If you think I hung up on you, blame it on the cat patrol and if you are a telemarketer, don’t call back.  Friend or foe, they seem to know.  If you are friend or family wait a few minutes and dial again or I’ll call you back.  Tux and Callie will be off on their next rescue mission within a very short time.  They seldom waste a minute or a motion. They watch my computer for any possible bugs or bugging and keep a close eye on the mouse.  It is probably safe as long as it doesn’t jump off the screen where it belongs.  It is just too small to worry about, not even snack size, not worth a nibble. 

One or the other from the cat patrol occasionally type encrypted letters to, well I’m not sure, maybe the ASPCA or PETA or some secret government agency.  Who knows?  They aren’t talking except in their own secret code language

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