The news you’ve all been waiting for—Horace was delivered without complications on Monday. I wasn’t required to sign so I couldn’t say what was written on the delivery man’s docket. I never received the alert to tell me when the post was considering delivering Horace, nor the one to be sent the day before to warn me to block the whole morning so as to be at home when the doorbell rang. What I did receive though was the alert I’d already scratched from the list of propositions: a message to let me know that:
“Your parcel, Horace, has been delivered.”
I hadn’t seen the utility of that particular attentive detail. I was sorta aware he’d been delivered since I was the one who like opened the door and without me or my next of kin, the postier couldn’t have delivered the parcel…
This, by the way, is Horace. The real, live (well…) furry one.
Fine-looking animal, isn’t he? He lies next to this chimney in the sun. Or in the gloom as this morning when there was no sun. He doesn’t give a toss. This is next-door’s roof as seen from our bathroom window. Our bathroom which is actually windowless at the moment since Finbar tried to leap through it after a cat (Branwell) waiting to come in.
The height of the roof has been cunningly designed to give cats easy access to our place. A small leap even a geriatric or bone idle (Horace) cat can manage no problem. Beneath the window is a handy ledge, cunningly designed to give cats easy access to our bedroom window in the event that the bathroom window is closed. This is often the case at night.
Our roof has its share of feline residents too. We have installed roof windows to give them easy access to the bedrooms on the second floor. They tend not to come in intentionally, but occasionally drop through when their curiosity makes them lean over too far. There’s a broom on the landing to chase them downstairs and out through the front door. I don’t need to describe what happens when they meet Finbar on the stairs.