Dear George,
My name is Ernie and I live in an Oxfordshire village which has lots and lots of cars parked outside during the evening and night. The odd thing is that most of these - two thirds, I would say - are absent during the day. Where do they go? Why don't they stay still? It is one of the mysteries of my life. Like a flock of birds, they leave shortly after dawn and then come back to roost in my village streets. What do you make of cars, George?
Ernie.
Dear Ernie,
Cars are very odd indeed. They have their uses. I enjoy sniffing the wheels which often have interesting smells left by other cats spraying there or by dogs which cock their leg against the rubber. There are also delicious whiffs of dead mammals that have been run over - rabbits, hares and mice. This time of year in Oxfordshire there are additional crushed feathers and flesh of pheasants that are let out to be shot by humans. These domestic birds are hopelessly lost in the countryside, like hens let out of a coop. I could almost feel sorry for them if they didn't taste so good.
As well as providing interesting smells, cars are useful refuges for cats. At dusk, when they are quiet and still, we can shelter from the rain. Or use them as a safety area, if there are large dogs in the vicinity. In cold weather, when they have flocked back to their roost, they are often still warm from the movement. Sitting on the engine can warm up a chilly cat.
When they are not asleep, however, they are cat killing monsters. Their flashing eyes at night paralyse us so that we don't know how to cross the road. If we make a run for it, blinded by them, we often end up dead or severely injured.
Humans seem addicted to them. So we are stuck with them, I suppose. Humans don't realise how dangerous they are to cats.
George.
PS. Please look at the artwork by Harvey the inspirational House Rabbit. Eye opening talent. If comments are slow on getting on this is because my secretary is away and has put me in a cattery. The traitoress.