The Cat Flap Bandit

As soon as I saw the lights go off upstairs, I seized my opportunity and headed for the panel in the door. This is where all the waiting pays off. See, I’d snuck in unseen hours ago, but the stupid giggly young couple here hadn’t even thought about going to bed until I was almost dozing off myself. Luckily, they were gone now, so I could finally get to work.

I started by undoing the screws. As each of them bounced off the tiles, they made a tiny metallic tinkling sound, but nothing that would rouse the sleeping unsuspecting above.
A thud from the lounge. Damn, rumbled.
I turn around to see who or what has caught me in the act. Eventually, a weedy grey kitten plods in. Oh, for the love of –
‘Dammit, Larry! I thought I told you to stay outside and keep watch!’
Seriously, where do I find these amateurs?
Larry tries to look all timid by putting on the big ole watery eyes, evidentially forgetting that I’m immune to them because I too am a cat.
‘I’m sorry, Rover. I just got scared. It’s dark out there and I ain’t too good when there’s no lights on.’
‘Hey, if you don’t like the dark, you shouldn’t have come out tonight. You know we only nick the silly flappy panels when humans are super-snoozing, so you should have expected a late shift.’
He starts to paw the floor nervously, and deliberately avoids my gaze.
‘Sure, but, see, I kinda forgot how dark the dark is, you know? In my mind, I’d be able to see.’
‘You can see fine. There’s street lamps past the fence.’
He looks – despite the fact we’re on the kitchen floor and nowhere near window height – in the direction of the front garden as if to check whether I could possibly be wrong. I sigh.
‘Look, Larry, it’s great that you want to get into the flip-up door removal game, but perhaps you could follow someone else for a change. I’m not looking to be a mentor any time soon. Plus, you’re sort of slowing me down.’
‘Am not.’
‘Yes, you obviously are! Right now, I’m talking to you when I should be taking another panel out. Clearly, you’re a distraction, so scram. I don’t need you screwing this job up and getting us caught by Tibbles.’
‘Tibbles? Aw, you don’t think he’d actually make an appearance, do ya? We’re petty thieves, not bird bath poachers. We’re hardly worth his time…’
‘We’re in his territory hitting up the doorstops where his gang get good grub. I think we’re definitely a threat.’
‘Still, we’re taking cat flaps, Rover, cat flaps! They’re hardly worth working up a furball over.’
‘Maybe so, but we can’t take that chance. He already knows that, thanks to some lone ranger, every feline now has easy access to previously exclusive meals. All he has to do is find out who it is, and rub them out.’
Larry gulps. I’d do the same, but for his sake, I feign nonchalance and return to unpicking the screws with my claws. Suddenly, behind me, Larry hisses and scampers off.
‘Jesus, what now?’
I turn around and see a plump well-groomed tabby looking extremely pleased with himself standing in the doorway. Tibbles.
‘Evening, Rover.’
This time, an air of nonchalance is much more harder to come by.
‘Hey, Mr Tibbles. Long time, no see. What have you been up to? Great. Bye!’
I head towards the lounge, but he pins down my tail with one of his round paws.
‘Not so fast. I believe you can help me with something that’s been troubling me lately.’
‘Er, sure. Anything for you, Mr Tibbles.’
‘Excellent.’ He releases my tail and pulls me round so we’re face to face. ‘Rover?’
‘Yes?’
‘Who’s been taking the little doors off my hangouts?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Wrong answer.’
He bats me to the floors. He puts his paw on my chest with his sharpest claw poised to stick into my heart the moment I give any further responses deemed incorrect. He continues.
‘I’ve been having young Larry follow you. He asked around the neighbourhood where to get bandit work, and voilà, he was sent to you. Funny that.’
Oh no. I really should have suspected that – after all, no kitten can truly be that stupid.
‘Looks like your cat flap capers are over, Rover. In fact, I’ve heard you’re going to retire – permanently.’
This does not look great. I nod in the vague hope that I’m going to be let off on a promise of good behaviour.
‘Say your prayers, Rover.’
Ah, no such luck.
‘One last question though before I kill you. Why the name?’
I smile weakly.
‘My owners wanted a dog.’
‘Ah’, the fat cat considers this, ‘well, now they can get one.’
And with that, my nine lives are extinguished. To think, I died for a cat flap. Oh well. At least there’ll be none of those in Hell.