"Er upstairs"

Do you remember the TV series “Minder”?  It starred Dennis Waterman and George Cole who played the role of Arthur Daley?  If you remember the Arthur Daley character used to refer to his wife (who was never seen throughout the entire run) as “er indoors”.  Well I've got "er upstairs"

This is she.

Er Upstairs on the balcony

Don’t be fooled by how sweet she looks.  This one is pure tartar!

We’ve known “er upstairs” for about eight years, but until last year she was completely wild.  Refused point blank to have anything to do with humans beyond berating them from a windowsill for not putting out food on time. Try and touch her and she was off at the speed of light. 

I would love to be able to tell you that this young lady was … a young lady.  I afraid I cannot tell a lie.  She would go out on the tiles, and return with the whole cake shop, never mind one bun in the oven.  My neighbours and I despaired as yet another litter of kittens was dumped on us (she knew we’d take care of them) as she went to find a suitable place to have the next lot.  It took its toll on all of us, as we had to tame the kittens, pay a vet to check them out, find them decent homes, and not least deal with children who had got attached to the kittens and cried buckets when they left.

Several of us (neighbours) finally conspired to catch her and with a sigh of relief, took her to the vet to be sterilized.  After that, er upstairs led a quieter life, and so did we.  I still couldn’t get her to come close though until last winter when she took up residence in a small kennel I put on my balcony in an attempt to offer her some shelter from the cold.  After a few weeks she decided to come indoors via the upstairs balcony door.  She's been upstairs ever since and will not come down for love or money.

Every morning when I go downstairs to feed the others a plaintive miaowing from above “don’t forget me” (fat chance!) nags incessantly.

Pleading, coaxing, terrifying, yelling, clucking, chasing – NOTHING gets her downstairs, and so I spend my days running up and down to let her in, let her out or feed her at her demand (or be driven crazy by her unabating calls). 

She will let me touch her now. She purrs profusely.  I often find her sleeping by my feet in the morning.  She’s not an ungrateful or unaffectionate mistress. 

But she always has the last laugh.