I'm very much in a trough at the moment. My kitty went missing for a week, we found her on Saturday locked in a neighbours basement. I could hear her plaintive cries and soon became inwardly hysterical, the feeling a little like -I imagine -a new mother gets when she hears her baby's first gurgling screams. But cats are, for the moment, the extent of my mothering instincts. The family weren't home and we could only assume they were on holiday and my poor kitty was starved and dehydrated in that cold basement. So we broke the window, pushing at it tentatively until it cracked so the pane of glass resembled territories on a map. Kitty felt lighter when we got her out but seemed fine and a little ungrateful, we thought. But she did spend some time meowing at us with fierce affection and pushing her head under our hands, so I guess its ok. The neighbours returned the following morning. I feel an intense resentment towards these neighbours, which I guess isn't fair. Something to do with them having a basement in which to hoard crap, which is the same area we live in adjacent to them. A basement. We live in a basement, with carpets and a kitchen. They have this space just to keep the things they don't need. And to trap cats in. Something about paying these cunts 150 quid for an emergency call out to fix a window to a basement that has bars on. Something about that woman's self-rightousness, and her clipped middle class manner of speaking. Something about her gormless kids sitting in the back of their people carrier.
Just makes me angry.
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