So I’m full of the lurgy and made a point of going to bed early last night. Some time around 2:30am I heard a banging coming from downstairs. Ceri has been known to headbutt the kittehflap when she wants to go out but never with this amount of noise. She pushes, this was ramraiding. So, bleary-eyes, I get up and turn on the light. Isis is sitting on the top of the steps looking down and I immediately put on my grouchy voice as I see Ceri at the bottom of the stairs trying to get out.

“Cer, what the hell are you doing?”

“Mew?”

Ceri is sitting half way up the stairsteps. I’m confused. Isis is sitting next to me, Ceri is on the steps and there’s a third cat trying to get out. I don’t have three cats and even while I sometimes see an extra feline (I suffer from Charles Bonnet syndrome and experience visual hallucinations, like lights or people or even kittehs) but this one was very real and not one of mine.

On my estate there are dozens and dozens of cats. They seem to outnumber humans and, strangely, it’s easier for me to remember their names than for humans. For example, there’s Ceri’s on-again/off-again boyfriend Great White Worzel next door, there’s Jodie two doors down and Ceri’s doppelganger Snowball around the corner. This cat is black which means it’s either Georgie from down the street or white whiskered (and pawed) Charlie from the other side of the estate. A quick check of the pissed off kitteh revealed a magnet and a totally black cat. It’s Georgie.

Now Georgie, he’s not so keen on me. Mainly because I used to mistake him for Isis during her Great Escape last year. However he’s basically a placid cat and obviously snuck in and – as I keep the kittehflap locked during the night so Ceri can’t go back out – has been stuck. So he runs upstairs, forcing Isis to flee and Ceri to stare.

Great. Now I have to play Identify the Cat. It wouldn’t be so bad but  all of them are charcoal black with green eyes and of a similar size. Isis has scarpered so I’m one down and I grab a cat about to fly into my bedroom. A quick collar check reveals the jackpot – it’s Georgie. I grab him by the scruff of the neck and hold him over my arm, supporting his body weight. Then head downstairs and gently set him outside after checking it’s definitely him four times.

Herding cats is never fun, herding three black cats when you’re a VIP is even worse. It’s a good job though that I was here – normally I stay with my mother on Thursdays to attend an evening class. I don’t think he or his owners would be best pleased if he got trapped in my house for nine hours until I got home. Actually never mind him, what about my girls? They were remarkably placid about the whole experience but how would they take to an alien kitteh trapped in their home for an extended period of time?

So, for now, I’m double locking the kitteh flap!