It was an idyllic summer in early '97. The seasons are the other way around in the Southern Hemisphere. T-Rex had just introduced me to the Clan and his oldest brother promptly invited us to spend the weekend at their place in St Andrews. Their two-bedroom brick house on a quarter-acre block was located in Campbelltown, south-west of the Sydney CBD area. It took us almost 2 hours' drive to get there.
Once there, it was well worth the effort. Dinner was a warm and happy affair, with plenty of smiles and cheerful banter all round. T-Rex's niece was all of 13, bright as a buttercup, bubbly and full of fun. Like many growing teens, she had a hearty appetite and cleaned her plate, and still had room for dessert. We wondered how she packed everything into her petite frame. T-Rex teased her about hollow legs that helped stash away all that food.
Well-fed and satisfied after dinner, we lounged around for a while in the living room, enjoying each other's company. When bedtime came, the sofa was pulled out and converted into a double bed. We were duly warned about not letting the cats take advantage of us and jumping onto the sofa bed in the night.
T-Rex was out like a light the instant his head touched the pillow. Always wary in a strange place, I could never sleep soundly on the first night. I tossed, turned, thumped my pillow into a more comfy shape. Used to a queen-sized bed at home, I found it confining to be in a double bed. T-Rex, being 6'2", took up more than his fair share of the bed. I was slowly being propelled towards the edge of the sofa bed. If I didn't roll T-Rex back to his side of the bed, I'd end up on the floor by the morning.
I pushed, prodded and with great difficulty, managed to free a few more inches of bed space. Just I was finally drifting off to sleep, I heard it.
A creak, clank and thud. I sat bolt upright.
What was that?
Shaking T-Rex's shoulder, I hissed into his ear, 'I think someone's broken into the house. They're messing around in the kitchen!'
He muttered irritably in his sleep and turned over without even a flicker of his eyelids. My hero.
There was another muffled thud. It was something that went bump in the night. Maybe they had a poltergeist? Whom should I call?
I shook my head to clear the lingering cobwebs from my brain. I wasn't going to be scared off so easily. It was more likely an ever-hungry teenager rummaging through the pantry in search of a midnight snack.
Climbing out of bed as quietly as I could, I padded on bare feet to the darkened kitchen where I could hear little clinks and clunks. I couldn't see anyone standing there. But whoever or whatever it was, it sure was active.
I crept up to the shadowy alcove where the light switch for the kitchen was located and flicked it on, saying: "Aha, gotcha!"
Two pairs of eyes beaming like headlights stared unblinkingly at me. There was Sylvester, a black-and-white tomcat, perfectly balanced up on his hind legs, his fore paws clasping the round doorknob of the cupboard. Sylvester was carefully backing away from the cupboard with the doorknob in his paws.
Laid-back Leo, his partner in crime, a long-haired Maine Coon popped his shaggy white head out from the inner depths of the cupboard. He gave me an enquiring "meow".
I burst out laughing. T-Rex's niece came out of her bedroom (it was nearest the kitchen). She took in the scene at a glance and dissolved into a fit of giggles.
I had surprised the cat burglars in the act. Sylvester had taught himself this wonderful new trick of opening cupboard doors. Leo thought it was great they could now get into the goodies cupboard where their kitty kibble was stashed.
You'd better keep an eye on Kirby, Val. One of these days, your cat might also figure out the secret of opening cupboard doors too. Or he might get his secret squirrel associate from the tree outside to do the dastardly deed...!
Actually, he does open doors. I thought I told you, but obviously I only thought I did. One day, I came home from work to find Jerome waiting for me outside, eyes big as saucers. He informed me that the kitchen and bathroom sink cabinets had been slamming on their own. It took awhile, but I finally busted Kirby, pulling one open, then as he'd lose his 'grip' it would slam shut, startling him so bad he'd hide. Leaving the appearance of doors slamming on own. Now days, he's a lot quieter about it, managing to get into the cabinets. I keep waiting for him to get 'trapped', but that hasn't happened yet.
