THE ADVENTURES OF MR. TWINKLE
By Sheelgah Le Cocq
Mr. Twinkle (pedigree name Merlin early Mist) died five years ago of
kidney failure at the early age of 14, but in his prime he was one of the
greatest characters that you could hope to meet
When we lived in the country, he had a territory, which extended for at
least two miles, and he would patrol the whole area every day, visiting
the farm, the riding stables, and always making sure to arrive at the p at
lunchtime.
When we had builders working nearby, he would sneak into their hut in
the morning and pinch either a bag of sandwiches or sausage rolls. For
weeks they blamed the apprentice for getting only part of their orders
from the baker's, until they spotted Twinkle with a bag between his teeth
carrying off his trophy. They followed him home and requested (none too
politely) that we keep him in every morning until after they had finished
their tea break.
Later, when we moved into town he saw a drunk, who had sat on our
garden wall to eat his fish and chips shortly after closing time. Twinkle
crept closer through the bushes until he was directly behind the man,
though still hidden by the undergrowth.
Suddenly he opened his mouth and let forth is normal blood curdling
Siamese cry, which he always gave when he wanted food. The poor man must
have thought it was a banshee as he leapt into the air, throwing his fish
and chips behind him and ran down the road as though all the devils in
hell were after him. Twinkle captured the fish and chips, which were still
in their paper and proudly brought them home. We had no idea where he had
got them from until the next day, when our neighbor, who had witnessed
what happened from her window, gave us all the details.
One Sunday lunchtime he came racing into the kitchen with something in
his mouth. He was growling and swearing at the top of his voice and
disappeared under the kitchen table refusing to let the other cats near.
As I had not seen what he had got, I crawled under the table to
investigate, and found that he had acquired a whole, hot, roast chicken!
He had got in through my neighbors open kitchen window and stolen it as
soon as she had taken it out of the oven. I could not return it as it was
rather dirty, where he had dropped it because it was so hot, so I kept
very quiet about it, but I felt very guilty at the thought of her husband
coming home from the pub to a plate of vegetables and potatoes. I found it
very difficult the net day to keep a straight face, when she told me about
it. Fortunately she had no idea, who the guilty party was, and never
suspected my cats. To reach home they had to leap a 6foot wall. No mean
feat with a 3 Lb. hot chicken in your mouth!
There are countless other stories of him, mostly involving theft I'm
afraid...neighbor's gold fish, budgies and canaries, or his anti-social
habit of spraying...in the video, the fish tank, on a neighbor's cake,
which was cooling by the window (I never did tell her), the toaster, the
dishwasher, on a neighbors leg, when she was hanging out her washing, in
the phone socket (frequently, and i felt so embarrassed each time I called
the repair man out), and once in the electric socket, which blew the main
fuse!
At the time he drove me to distraction. Though, I loved him dearly. I
was ashamed to admit to anyone that he was mine. He would rip open plastic
rubbish sacks with on claw, scattering all the contents everywhere in
search of bones, which he would crunch up like a dog. He would fight like
an alley cat to defend his territory, and would never, ever back down to
any other animal. One abiding memory I have of him is seeing him coming
down from the riding school at the top of the hill for his breakfast each
morning. As he walked through the field chattering to himself, tail
straight as a ramrod, there would be up to half a dozen horses following
solomanly behind him in single file. He was never overawed by these huge
creatures, who would blow down their noses at him as he leapt on the bank
and looked back at them before coming into the kitchen for his 2nd
breakfast of the morning.
You could take him anywhere on a collar and lead. He loved going for a
walk in the woods or on the beach. He was not afraid of trips in the car,
or visits to the vet, and as soon as I put his collar and lead on , he
would proudly walk out to the car and jump in, excited to be going
somewhere. Cats like Mr. Twinkle are once in a lifetime. They don't seem
to make them like that very often.
