more participants at Jenny Matlock's Alphabet Thursday
One night we woke up because we heard awful screems, just like a baby in a horror movie would do. But there are no babies here around.
An unhappy Mr. G. climbed groaning out of his bed and went out to check the garden. The cries came from our weeping willow tree. Approaching in the moonless night he saw a white spot far above him, on a branch.
Arthur's favourite place from where he can overlook the whole neighborhood
Mr.G. asked me to look after a pocket lamp as he couldn't see nothing. Which I did. Mr. G. took the lamp and pointed it to the white spot. It was our cat Arthur. He was sitting there, and just meauwing a whole opera. Mr. G. started swearing (in italian of course or fortunately) in his descreet Pavarotti voice. It was past midnight and the neighbors probably all slept happily and hopefully not unhappily. (amazing how the letters U N can change a whole sentence !)
I suggested to take a ladder and try to get Arthur down. Which he did, cursing under his breath. when he had to go into the garden shed and take it out. It's amazing what Italians have a treasury of bad words ! And on top of it, it rather sounds nice not so ugly as when you are swearing in another language. Apparently dispite all efforts we were quiet noisy and suddenly some windows had opened and heads looked out. The scenery must have been worthwhile to look at. Mr. G in his pajama, buggering about with the ladder, me with the flashlight in my old T-shirt and both reasuring poor Arthur still singing in the tree.
Finally the ladder was in the right place, and a creaking Mr. G. climbed up and told Athur to jump on his shoulder. Arthur found it very funny that his beloved feeder also wanted to sit in the tree. So he welcomed him by scratching his nose. The feeder unhappily scolded with him about this kind welcome, when Arthur suddenly turned around and jumbed on another branch. No way to catch him. I called Arthur and tried to calm down the now very unhappy Mr. G ! By now Arthur had reached the lower branches and like a flash jumped down on the grass just besides my legs. Then he sat by my feet and looked up.
Mr. G. was still sitting on the ladder up in the tree ...
Because of the darkness I couldn't see his face but he certainly looked quiet unhappy !