Schrodinger Takes Charge

I shall be reading from THE LIFE & TIMES OF MR PUSSY, A MEMOIR OF A FAVOURITE CAT at 7pm on Saturday 17th November as part of the Write Idea Festival at the Whitechapel Idea Store.  Click here for free tickets

The sphinx

Over six months have passed since Schrodinger arrived in Spitalfields. These days, he comes and goes as he pleases through his cat flap, and knows how to open any door by leaping up and applying nimble pressure at just the right spot below the handle. Habitually now he settles down in the centre of the room or upon the arm of the sofa with his shoulders spread and his front legs extended in an expression of ownership. I call this familiar position ‘the sphinx.’

Like the sphinx Schrodinger retains his mystery, yet he opens his heart sometimes. If he discovers me at my desk, he delights to run and jump into the space between me and the back of the chair, rubbing himself against my spine and purring. There have been rare occasions when he has climbed around to sit upon my lap. Similarly, if he sees me lying upon the sofa with my head resting at one end against a cushion, he will leap onto the arm and rub himself against my hair, settling there snuggled against the back of my head. Sometimes he even climbs along the sofa to lie in the narrow space between me and the edge, before moving onto my stomach and cuddling there to feel the warmth of my body.

Yet Schrodinger’s personality has not softened. Like some latter day Joseph Merceron, he is subjugating the neighbourhood. I have become aware of fewer cats in the vicinity as he has extended his manor although – thankfully – he has made an exception for a neighbour’s pair of house cats, granting them free passage in his exclusion zone. Bare patches around Schrodinger’s neck and chest attest to his fights, where bites and scratches have formed red scabs and then taken off chunks of fur as he sheds the scabs before the fur grows again. It troubles me to wonder what injuries he inflicts on his combatants.

For some time, it was a matter of anxiety what might happen if Schrodinger were to confront a neighbour’s Staffordshire terrier, a lean and muscular young specimen. One day, I heard the sound of the confrontation that I dreaded and ran to the window fearing the worst. But I saw Schrodinger sitting alone in his sphinx position with his arms extended, eyes shining and his jaw clenched in an expression of ferocity. Indoors, I could hear the dog whimpering in fear and my neighbour comforting the poor creature. I realised that during Schrodinger’s years in Shoreditch, he had become familiar with the dogs belonging to the down-and-outs who frequented the church. Consequently, dogs prove no challenge to him. After that, I had to restrain Schrodinger physically twice by grabbing his back legs to prevent him climbing into the neighbour’s window to beat up their dog when they left it alone in the house.

In an attempt to encourage Schrodinger’s playful nature and educate him in the ways of house cats, I bought him six ping pong balls and left them on the carpet but he regarded them with disinterest. Yet I know he is happy because he always enters the house with his tail held up and runs to his dish of biscuits where he hunkers down to crunch enthusiastically until his hunger is satiated. Next he moves to his water dish and extends his long, lizard-like tongue, unfurling it down and lapping up the liquid in a quick repetitive gesture.

I have discovered the most effective means to puncture Schrodinger’s implacable nature is to brush him. It is by providing this service that I command his full attention. He has realised at last that I have a function. At first, I brush him gently on his head and then he stretches out his front legs as I brush his back. After I have brushed his chest and legs, he rolls onto his back so that I may brush his chest and belly. This inspires an abandoned frenzy of joy in which he rolls around on the carpet with his legs extended and his eyes gleaming in delight. He may even play with the ping pong balls afterwards, just so that I am not disappointed.

Thus Schrodinger has established his territory, his means of ingress and egress, his supply of food and water. He has company, he has grooming and a warm place to sleep. This is how Schrodinger took charge in Spitalfields.

You may like to read my earlier stories about Schrodinger

A New Home for Schrodinger

The Loneliness of Schrodinger

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