Getting off to a screaming start...

This weekend was fairly uneventful. TSC is miserably sick, and I do believe it's more than a mere man cold. He is achy, feverish and slimy, and I have relegated him to the bed for today. He is not-so-secretly relieved to be bossed about and made to stay home from varsity.

Today is my brother's birthday. He is turning 20, so I have told him that he is no longer allowed to act like a bratty teenager as of today. We'll see how that goes. Not holding my breath ;-)

We went for an early celebratory lunch with the birthday boy, my folks and my gran at Mythos in Design Quarter yesterday, before my mom and gran jetted off to Kuwait to visit my infamous uncle.

Lunch was yummy! But I reckon sitting in the cool breeze pushed poor TSC from slightly sniffly to properly sick. Anyway... that was the extent of our excitement this weekend. Until 4.30 this morning.

(Prologue to 4.30am action sequence:)
I have mentioned before that my cats are "indoor cats". Having lived in small Cape Town flats for their formative (cat) years, they were used to this lifestyle. When we moved to Jozi we started to let them outside into the communal garden while we were home, which they thoroughly enjoyed. Since we've been in the new house we've let them roam as they please during the day, and only kept them inside at night.

But last night we decided to leave the windows open and let them have total freedom. I sincerely hope they enjoyed it, becuase it will never happen again.

The story...
I had managed to fall asleep against the backdrop of TSC's wheezy snoring, and we were both deep in dreamland when we were rudely awoken by a LOUD screech. In our bedroom.

Please imagine how you would react to this. Being woken by a loud noise is scary. Being woken by a screech is scarier. The screech being in your bedroom is pretty damn terrifying.

We both jumped out of bed, hearts racing, blood pumping in our ears. TSC snapped the lights on while I crouched next the bed like the wuss I am. There was nothing there. "Was that a cat?" I asked, shakily.
"Yup." he said, sounding way less freaked out than he later admitted he felt. He promptly disappeared down the stairs to find the guilty screecher creature and possibly rescue our pansy of a cat, Marble.

Our other cat, Sapphire, was cowering in the corner of our bedroom under a chair and wouldn't budge. As I managed to get her into my arms, I saw a flash of ginger fur head downstairs, followed by Marble, his fur standing on end. They'd been in the spare room across from our room.

I yelled to TSC that the cat had come down. The poor sick man had gone out to the garden in the cold to look for Marble. He said the ginger cat came rushing out of the house and he took off his shoe and threw it at the cat (aiming to miss) to scare it off. Instead, the animal (obviously also terrified) turned around and ran back into the house.

TSC came running back in and the pathetic Marble ran out. So TSC went back out, got Marble in, and starting hunting for the ginger cat. I "looked around" upstairs, but I knew it hadn't come back up. To tell the truth, I was still trembling from the fright and was too scared to go downstairs in case the cat jumped out at me in the dark. I'm such a loser, I know. Luckily for me, my husband has some balls.

Eventually we decided that the cat must have escaped out the kitchen window. TSC closed all the downstairs windows and we got back into bed, both half-expecting the screeching to start up again.

As the adrenaline started to wear off, nausea set in. We seriously struggled to get back to sleep. Both cats came and slept on the bed with us until I got up for work.

So tonight we will return to form and make sure that the cats are inside before we go to bed and that all the windows are closed. Bugger total feline freedom - our peaceful sleep is more important!