Secret Diary Of Terry

Secret Diary Of Terry – Part Four

“Who disturbs my slumber?”

The husky mew of a fellow feline drifted up from beneath an over-stuffed sitting chair in the corner of the room.

“It is I, Terry” I replied, a little puzzled that she did not already know who I was. “Surely you have noticed my announcements?”

An over-stuffed cat of epic proportions languidly sashayed into view. I would like to have said that she was quite a beauty, but that would have been something of an untruth. Indeed, her fur was wonderfully thick like smoked velvet and her big green eyes shone like bedeviled glass. But her snout was rather squashed and her cheeks so fat that they almost swallowed her eyes. A disconcerting swish swish indicated an impatient tail flicking across the floorboards as unsheathed talons caught themselves on the polished wood.

“I do not trouble myself with such things,” she replied, exposing needle-sharp fangs in a gaping yawn. Her coat rippled and bristled as she awakened her massive bulk.

“Right. Well, I am here now and no doubt the creatures will soon be making great preparations for my welcome proper. If you intend to remain in my lair I should inform you that anything above the size of a vole is mine and you will be expected to limit your requests for tummy rubs to occasions when I am asleep.” I thought my terms were more than fair. I did not want my new subjects exhausted by fussing such a porcine puss.

“Your lair? This is my lair.” Lady cat narrowed her eyes and stretched herself to her full length, like a great velour sausage. “I am The Master’s Cat.”

This came as something of a shock. I had heard much talk of The Master’s Cat, of course, from Onion Flower and Green Bacon. I knew it as a vicious beast, fierce and unfriendly. And certainly not a lady.

“You do realise that everyone thinks you are a chap, don’t you?” I retorted, trying to keep my whiskers straight. “And it is no small wonder.  You look like a fluffy pig.”

“How rude you are!” she replied with outraged indignation. “I shall have you know that I am magnificent. All my creatures say so. In any case, I have no gentleman’s equipment to speak of.”

“Well, neither do I these days so that proves nothing.”

“No doubt that is because you are not a gentleman!”

“But at least I am not a pig!” she hissed at me but I was not perturbed. “Listen. I am claiming this lair for myself and Onion Flower. You had best make yourself scarce.”

“… Onion Flower? Oh.” The Master’s Cat was suddenly on the back paw. “You know she is not here, don’t you? She has gone adventuring with Shouting Whiskey and that one in the top hat… Cherry Noodle.” She spoke this name with a great tremble in her voice. I know this Cherry Noodle. He does indeed wear a fine top hat that I plan to leave an announcement in just as soon as I can. He will be delighted, no doubt.

“Do you know when she will return?” I ask, trying not to show my concern. I do hope she will be back.

“They are looking for a thing. I don’t know what it is. But Green Bacon seems to think they will be back very soon indeed.”

Excellent news! I would have just enough time to prepare the lair and ensure that everything smells as it should – namely, of me.

“Good, then” I said to her, nose proudly in the air. “I shall let you share a spot with Cherry Noodle, seeing as you two are both  rumbunctious beasties.”

This suggestion seemed to cause quite some upset. The Master’s Cat made the most hideous noise – like a human singing or some such thing. The mewlings she uttered were not discernible to me, but she leapt – claws a-flash – right towards my very nose…

Secret Diary Of Terry – Part Three

You see, the biggest difference between human creatures and cats is that humans are never satisfied. This is what makes the feline breed a significantly superior species. Whilst you destroy yourselves chasing ambition and greed, we furry gods recline in our smug satisfaction; beautiful, wise and eternal.

Never more did I feel this anomaly of human nature than during my explorings of my new lair, the estimable Old College. It is true that cats view the world very differently from you hairless fellows, for you only see the things allowed by your limited faculties; you see only the things that are there. We can see the things that were, the things that could have been and the things that are yet to come. My investigations of the new lair revealed not only an abundance of excellent hunting and snoozing spots, but also an air thick with the echoes of triumph and disappointment, secrets and lies and ignorance wrapped up to appear as wisdom. It seemed to me that this was a place where humans come to be better. Not better humans, sadly, just better than other humans.

The scent of Onion Flower was faint throughout the lair and I began to think that perhaps she had not been here all that recently. The stench of Green Bacon permeated completely, giving the impression that he was everywhere at once. At the places where his niff was most potent, I added my own scent with the intention of exerting a bit of authority. He is a nice chap but he needs to learn his place. It was about this time I began to feel rather worried. I could detect a hint of another feline in this territory. The marking was not strong, as if she (for the scent of a lady cat is unmistakable) did not maintain regular patrols. A fine territory such as this would require vigorous attention, perhaps she was unwilling or unable? I thought to seek her out and inform her politely of my intention to install myself and Onion Flower at the earliest opportunity.

Seeing as the scent of lady cat was so very vague, I thought it best to place my own, much more potent markings about the place so that people might be aware of my arrival. No doubt they would want to find a fitting way to welcome me and it is only fair to give them the opportunity to make preparations. I buried little piles of my waste material around and about, taking great care to spread it as far and wide as possible. I would have hated for anyone to have missed out on my announcements.

My endeavours completed, I took to higher ground to better survey my new home. I scaled the ancient stone with surprising supinity. I had prepared myself for a little crumbling here and there as I made the walls and window ledges my playground, but not a movement beneath my little paws. The fierce underpinnings of pious pomposity must reach to the very tops of its towers. From up here, the lair looks very beautiful indeed. The courtyards are laid out in neat little squares of green, framed with the delight of bursts of pinks and purples. The cloisters echoed with the sounds of a thousand footsteps, the music of long forgotten laughter and somber laments of fallen tears. My new subjects scurried from place to place with such a sense of purpose that I could not help but think that they must have already noticed my little announcements. Oh yes, this lair would work out just wonderfully for Onion Flower and I.

Up here, the smell of lady cat was much more evident. I followed it to a dear little window that had been kindly left ajar for me and slipped through, testing the air with my whiskers as I went. Inside, the small but opulent quarters seemed smothered with a polish that tickled my nose quite rudely. Almost every surface, from floor to ceiling, was adorned with a heavy dark wood. There were shiny things scattered about but they did not smell of interest to me. In fact, all I could smell at this point was her.

Her thick, velvet fur.

Her claws like polished steel.

Her aura – masquerading as fear, but actually something else… something… vicious?

Secret Diary Of Terry – Part Two

My night spent at the lair of Green Bacon was not too awful, although he is a poorly trained creature. The back door was left ajar for me to explore what passes for his outside territory, but I wasn’t much in the mood. There were smells out there I wasn’t all too sure about, to be honest. I passed some time sniffing about his lair and did find three spiders, which was encouraging. Some kippers appeared on a small plate in the kitchen, which I ate. I thought they might be to keep me from starvation until the steak had finished cooking on the stove, but this vanished quite mysteriously. I made a note to put in a formal complaint with Onion Flower.

The upstairs nest which I had chosen for myself was strangely shut away behind a door when I went up to have a snooze. I suspect that Green Bacon had got in there himself, which was very rude. I had to make do with a makeshift nest I found downstairs. It was kind of Green Bacon to wash and iron his clothes in anticipation of my arrival, although the pile needed some degree of rearrangement before it met my needs. Although I slept quite well, I was unable to announce myself first thing as the door to the nest room was still shut tight. Luckily for Green Bacon, I can make quite a racket when I have a mind to and he was soon up and about, getting my breakfast.

This creature was pleasant enough but very simple. His lack of training was endearing at first but I could see that things would soon become problematic. His feet seemed to be everywhere that I needed to be and I barely had time for three brief groomings before he hoiked me outside among the strange smells. This was no good at all. I decided to follow Green Bacon in the hope that he might lead me to Onion Flower.

Carrying out some essential maintenance

Carrying out some essential maintenance

I followed Green Bacon through an unusual and bustling territory, the likes of which I could never have imagined existed. My lair is situated amongst rolling fields and lazy little lanes and I am rarely bothered by the hairless creatures, except for when Onion Flower holds one of her inexplicable gatherings (the noise! Oh goodness…) This territory is teeming with the buggers, swarming like bugs between buildings the size of battleships. They cannot surely be lairs. I dread to think what they are. I certainly would not like to nest in them, that’s for certain.

My brief foray into foreign parts turns out to be very much worth the fleeting vexation. Before too long at all we arrived at a place that reeked of a vaguely familiar aroma. It is the smell that sits lightly on Onion Flower whenever she returns each evening. This must be Old College! And I don’t mind admitting that I found it to be quite remarkable, even by my extraordinary feline standards. The myriad of scents that assaulted my senses were thick with multi-faceted richness; it is not just the variety that excites my nose but the very quality.

But you must realise that smells are just the surface layer of a place, or thing. The basic senses can only tell you the most superficial things about a place, or thing. It is the extra sensory perceptions that a fellow must properly pay attention to. It is a tricky thing to explain to you creatures, although I believe that there are those among you who have a rudimentary grasp of such things. It is when you think with your mind, not your brain and your gut sees things that your heart is blind to. Old College deafened me with its unheard chorus and dazzled my eyes with the unseen. My hackles twitched with something that was neither fear nor malice, rather an ancient thing that spoke from one wise beast to another. When a lair such as this has been around so long, it acquires a vitality all of its own.

Green Bacon scurried off into a hut of little interest to me but at least I knew I was in the right place. I found a quiet spot beneath a strategically placed bush and took a moment to tidy up my tail. I could not quite smell Onion Flower yet but this was definitely her territory. She must be lurking somewhere. It also struck me just then that this is a very fine lair indeed and much more befitting of a cat of my standing. There were many, many creatures here that would no doubt be delighted to serve me.

Yes.

I decided to locate Onion Flower immediately and inform her that we now had a new lair.