Alice: But I don’t want to go among mad people.
The Cat: Oh, you can’t help that. We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.
Alice: How do you know I’m mad?
The Cat: You must be. Or you wouldn’t have come here.
I stopped to get some pictures of the cat garden yesterday. No one seems to notice the garden, and apart from myself, there was only one slightly eccentric man crooning at a flirtatious ginger tabby through the grill. ‘Loony’ I thought to myself. No wonder the triple layer grill and metal fence had been erected. God knows what the crazies would try to do to a wee abandoned kitty.
Apparently one of the cat shelter staff thought the same, and she walked into the garden on the pretext of filling up the water bowls, to check him out. A portly lady, dressed in black. Would she chase him away? She looked formidable, but you never know what you might unleash when you antagonise a loony. But no, she called out a greeting to him. All good then, he was a cat lover apparently. Then she turned to me. It gradually dawned on me, that I was the subject of the ‘what are you looking perv?’ look. Me?! What about the dodgy old dude with the flasher jacket? Ok, maybe I was the one with a camera. I took another picture, with her in the frame. Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t speak, but somehow managed to say ‘fucking tourist’ purely through body language.
I don’t blame her. It must be hard running a cat shelter in the Raval, and lurkers (like me) need to be treated with suspicion.
I was just about to leave anyway. Maybe the triple layer fence was actually for the protection of the outside world. See you later kitty cats.