The weirdest thing happened last night; both hubby and I were in great moods. We had ordered in pizza and were happily (joyously, raucously) watching the Champion’s League matches: Arsenal pulled out a tie (albeit on a dubious penalty call against Carles Puyol for pushing Cesc Fabregas) against Barcelona; hubby’s team Internazionale defeated CSKA Moskow; we were happily laughing and yelling when the knock came at the door followed by the doorbell.
Someone at the door that late? I checked again to see that hubby was home, ok; the 3 cats were sitting in the living room with us joining the celebrations, hearing the doorbell they have scampered up the stairs ... so everyone is home and ok. I went to answer the door, hoping that our celebrations were not so loud that a neighbour was coming to complain at the noise ... but, that wouldn’t make sense, the whole area is watching this game and celebrating along with us; no one could be so grumpy as to complain ... I look at my husband, who just shrugs and says "go and answer the door, I’m too tired to get up" ... this from the man who only half an hour ago was pogoing around the living room.
I go turn on the outside light to see who is at the door before opening it and to my shock there are 2 bobbies there. I immediately begin worrying that something horrible has happened to my neighbours or there has been an assault against someone nearby; I’ve been a good girl, I know that the government and police have been taking pictures at demonstrations, but the only thing that I have done is hand out leaflets and demonstrate peaceably alongside everyone else, but after the news of a 6’3" policeman not being charged with assault against a young woman (all of 5’2" if the pictures do her any justice) during the G8 demonstrations (whom he has beaten with his baton claiming self-defence and having this accepted by the judiciary), my paranoia kicks into high gear and a rush of fear goes up my spine.
I open the door and say "is there something wrong officers?" ... they look at me and say "madam, we would like to speak to you, can we come in?" I think "madam, I’m not a madam, I am a concierge" ... damn Mel Brooks, that happens every time, and, when did I get so old as to be called madam? I nod dully and step aside to let the officers into my home.
The police come into the living room, my husband raises an eyebrow at me and I shake my head subtlety to indicate to him that I have no idea what is happening. I notice that one of the officers is talking, but I am lost in my thoughts ... what is happening, has this country drifted over into fascism when I wasn’t looking? Maybe my letters to the Chancellor, my local MP or the PM were deemed threatening ... Finally I hear the sound of a throat clearing and look up "madam, we wish to speak to your whole family, do you have any children?" I answer, "no, just me, my husband and my 3 cats."
The policeman continues "madam, we have had reports of a serial robber in the area, have you heard anything about this?" Nope, haven’t heard a thing, do not know what the heck they are talking about, I breathe a sigh of relief, leave paranoia land and listen a bit more closely as this clearly has nothing to do with me or mine.
"Your neighbours have reported a string of robberies of personal clothing madam" ... I think ... personal clothing ... What the heck is personal clothing? He clarifies, "your neighbours have reported a robber that enters into their house, steals their socks, underwear, stockings and pantyhose ... the robber seems to have the gall to also take these things from their clotheslines ... all witnesses to the robberies have reported seeing a golden tail fleeing the scenes of the crime and the sounds of a cat wildly celebrating."
The officer continues "Madam, may we see your cats and can we look around?" I look around, there are socks everywhere, some matching pairs (maybe they’ll think I am a lousy housekeeper?), underpants, pantyhose ... the officer frowns at me (oh, good, they do think I am lousy housekeeper!) and says "Madam, I hate to be rude, but I daresay there is no way that you could fit into those underpants! Can we see the backyard Madam?" I open the door to the backyard, he asks for light, I have none to offer; I have no light in the backyard due to an electrical problem, something about earthing, or is that grounding? He pulls out his torch and shines it in the back ... there are camisoles, pairs of underwear, mismatched socks, matching pairs ... oops ... busted ...
The officer turns off the torch and steps back into my home and says "Madam, may we please see the cats?" Since he is not blind, he cannot miss the cats, they are all on the stairs looking at us and right in the middle is my daughter Cessie, the sock thief, the evil robber of the neighbourhood, a chocolate and gold tabby with one eyebrow cocked at us in amusement. The policemen (as the other has left the living room and my husband and now joined us) look at me and say, in unison, "Madam, I hope that you know that you are responsible for the actions of your pets, this is your first warning, if this behaviour is ever reported again, we will charge you with this crime and you will be facing imprisonment and definitely a fine." They turn on their heels in a move that almost appears choreographed and leave ... I am completely dumbstruck and do not know what to say, it is a miracle, for the first time in my life, I am actually silent! Somehow, I always thought I would be arrested at a demonstration fighting against the machine, no, I am facing imprisonment because of my cat ... karmic justice obviously ... I should have had children ... damn, now I know how my mommy felt about my actions!