Jeff’s patio.

Jeff rolled lethargically into a patch of sun. The trouble with the Sun was that it moved. If it could just stay where it was at about 1pm for eternity, life would be so much more satisfying than it currently was. That’s not to say that life was bad, it’s just that a cat is never truly happy and with an owner like Susan, you never know how long it’s likely to last.
The heat made him sleepy, covering him like a blanket, relaxing his muscles inviting a sweet paralysis to consume him. This was better than food, better than sex, better than taking a shit in next door’s flowerbed or leaving a dead sparrow in unreachable parts of the house.
The purrs rumbled out of him like the ominous sound of an approaching motorbike gang. He loved it like an estate agent loves himself; this small patch of sun drenched patio. His Babylon, his Eden, his Toys’R’Us, his paradise.

A sudden eclipse brought the solar bath to a halt. The sudden intrusion of shade sent a chill running from his ears to his tail, intensified as he slowly opened his eyes to be greeted by the toothy grin of a beaming Susan.
“AWWWWWWWW” she roared, forcing Jeff’s eyes to widen as he adjusted to the wall of noise coming out of Susan’s mug. She stretched out a hand and ran it roughshod over his belly. This was too much. You don’t touch any cat’s undercarriage. Moments ago he was in a near zen like state and now all sorts of unpleasant shit was occurring. He sprang up and trotted away to compose himself. He completed his stretches and glared at Susan.

“You’re a bloody twat Susan Jones” is what he would have said if he could say anything. His anger was evident from the rigidity of his body, the volume of his tail fur and the death stare fixed at Susan’s rotund face. Humans were only supposed to have one chin yet Susan, in her greed, seemed to be hoarding them, stacking them one on top of the other in a seemingly endless quest to rid herself of a neck.
Violent thoughts teared through his mind, visions of clawing and biting and gnawing until it began to ebb away and subside. He calmed himself and realised she wasn’t worth the stress. The sun wasn’t going anywhere and with Susan’s increased calorie intake, she’d be dead within the year. Besides, he could get back at her in so many different and subversive ways that wouldn’t compromise his living situation. He could piss on her pillow, he could refuse to eat the food she buys, he could encourage other cats in the area to fight and make weird meowing noises outside her front door late at night. She’d have to get up to shoo them away only for them to return for round five twenty minutes later. He could root through the bins for no reason or chew plastic bags during Ant and Dec’s Saturday Night Takeaway. He could chew so loudly it would drown out the dribbling, moronic audience screaming with pleasure at the concept of product placement as a competition.

As Susan clambered into a hammock like a hippo trying to climb a boggy river embankment, still chuckling to herself, Jeff strutted off. His revenge was already planned. If he couldn’t enjoy the sun outside, he’d enjoy it inside.

Those curtains would look so much better shredded on the floor.


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