I was washing the dishes when there was a quiet meow. Recognising it, I looked up furtively and saw my good friend, Spot the kitty, sitting in the back lane.
Seeing me, he meowed again.
"Shhhh," I said to him. "She'll hear you."
Spot got up, stretched and yawned in a nonchalant manner that explained exactly how disinterested he is in my problems. Then he meowed again.
"Yes-yes-yes," I recognise blackmail, even if the threat is in Cat. "I'll be there in a sec."
I grabbed some cat biscuits from the bowl and darted to the back door.
Turning the handle slowly helped mask the noise. As I leaned out and placed the biscuits on the plate that stands there, Spot walked around the corner. He stepped carefully through the grill, whiskers twirling with anticipation.
I stroked his ears. "Haven't seen you in ages. Were you celebrating Chinese New Year?"
Spot bumped my hand and sniffed over the plate. From the purr, this was a good day.
But then the green eyes widened. Seeing them, I stiffened. Yes, a whisper of sound behind me, followed by a hiss of consternation.
Peeking over my shoulder, I saw sapphire eyes and pearl fur. Unfortunately, the eyes were narrowed with temper.
Tic Tac was not amused. Her tail, usually a jaunty flag of cheer, was bushed like a bottle brush.
WATCH THE VIDEO: Tic Tac and Inkie staring at Spot
As I was swamped by guilt, Spot picked up a biscuit and crunched it loudly. It was a statement of insolence and challenge. Tic Tac growled and a ripple of hackle sprang up, running from neck to tail.
I scooped our girl up in mid-pounce and shut the door smartly. Tic Tac is soft and rounded, but under the pretty fur, she's all muscle.
She flexed, practically turning inside-out in my hands, and let rip. From the flat ears and the high-pitched shriek, her language was less than ladylike.
Thankfully, she's gentle because she kept her claws in. But as I carried her to the living room, her body burned with temper.
"It's just a few biscuits. They're practically stale. And you have more. An entire barrel of them."
But that wasn't the point, and my guilty conscience knew it.
This wasn't about biscuits. This was about us.
Tic Tac is furious when her human leaves treats for the neighbourhood kitty. Photo: Ellen Whyte
As far as Tic Tac is concerned, I'm her human. I can cuddle with Target and play silly bed-making games with Inkie all day long and do so with her blessing. But I cannot talk to outside cats.
The thing is that Spot and I go way back, at least seven years, maybe longer. He first turned up in the back lane, sitting under the kitchen window and acting pathetic. OK, he was pear-shaped, with a prosperous furry bum that indicated many generous suppers, but looks can be deceiving.
When cats are first lost or abandoned, they are frightened, but they look OK to the casual eye. It's only after the poor things are on the street for a week or so that they start to look rough.
I worried Spot was lost or abandoned, so I gave him a bowl of crunchies. He would not let me touch him, but when I put the bowl down and backed off, he slunk over and devoured them with gasping greedy abandon.
After that, he turned up regularly. We called him Spot for his moustache and speculated about his circumstances.
Over the weeks that followed, he continued to look well. The furry bottom remained reassuringly plump, and he was clean and glossy. But he ate as if he were starved.
Then, as Tom and I walked home from the pub one happy evening, we spied a familiar figure sitting in a driveway at the end of our street.
As we called out to him, naughty Spot gazed at his dad, who was watering his plants, and acted as if he'd never seen us before.
We outed him completely and discovered our feline friend has a loving family who are extremely generous with the food supply. Spot is simply greedy.
After that revelation, Spot stayed away for about a week, but then he pitched up again, acting as if nothing had happened. Being a cat, he persuaded us to paw over a few token biscuits.
It is hard to stop talking to a friend, even if naughty Spot could probably live without the extra biscuits, but with Tic Tac all upset, something had to change. Jealous cats suffer.
The solution struck as I gave her a little liver goop mush, her favourite treat.
A day or two later, when Spot turned up again, I called Tic Tac. I let her hiss at him through the window, and then I took her away and gave her half a tube of goop. Then I flashed to the back door and gave our guest his biscuits.
By the time I said bye to Spot, Tic Tac was finishing. I returned and was ready with the second half of her treat.
It worked. Within a day or two, she learned that Spot turning up means she gets princess treatment.
Tic Tac still stands at the window and hurls insults at the enemy, and she persuades Inkie to help her, but the upset has vanished. The new perspective has soothed the savage beast.
A bit of me is proud, but most of me is waiting. Target has already bought in on the deal. When Tic Tac hisses, he rushes to his treat bowl and waits.
With our cats being master manipulators, it's only a matter of time before Tic Tac works out a deal with Spot to leverage the situation.
I've bought a stock of goop, just in case.
Adopt Us
Socks and Bell don't look like each other but they are brothers. They are seven months old, neutered and vaccinated.
Socks. Photos: SPCA Penang/Lily Leng
Socks and Bell are outgoing, friendly and energetic. They play all day long, entertaining themselves and you. Socks is the mackerel tabby with the tiger-patterned muzzle and Bell has cheery ginger fur.
Bell
Interested adopters, please contact SPCA Penang, Jalan Jeti Jelutong, 11600 Jelutong, Penang (phone: 04-281 6559/ website: spca-penang.net).
