Mrs Didactophobe was working last night. Our cat was outside. Simple you may think. Ho Ho. At 11.30pm I call the cat in. Just as she is about to come in, she spots a mouse. She grabs the mouse and I have to slam the door in her face to prevent her bringing the mouse indoors.
When I open the door, the cat has dropped the mouse and is torturing it by chasing it around the driveway. I go outside in my bare feet and underpants (not a pleasant sight!) and chase the moggy to try and save the mouse. The cat picks up the mouse and eludes me. She eventually drops the mouse again and I pick up the cat and throw her into the porch. She springs back out the door before I can stop her and we resume the chase. This process is repeated. Meanwhile the mouse desperately tries to hide beside the steps. Didactofeline can't see it. I pick up the cat again and this time manage to slam the front door.
The cat by this time is frantic. She thinks I am mad to interrupt the hunt. She refuses to go into the living room and begins to scratch the carpet frantically. I eventually let her out again: thankfully the mouse has disappeared. The cat finds the spot where she caught the mouse and sits motionless.
Midnight. I see a shape outside the door and think the cat wants in. I open the door and call her name. No answer. Eventually she reappears and consents to be stroked. She then goes and sits in the hunting spot again. I go to bed.
This morning, the cat didn't speak as she came in the front door. Bad sign. After breakfast she glared at me and went off to bed. When she finally surfaced, she was still in a funny mood. When I threw one of her plastic balls at her (which she normally enjoys hunting), she looked at it contemptuously and told me to chase it myself (she has good communication skills). She has not forgiven me.
Tonight. She has gone back to the same spot and is standing guard. It looks as though she will be spending another night outside. I am made to feel a complete bastard because I spoiled her fun. But I did save a life.