On Deck

You know how animals always seem to be able to tell what's going on, long before their owners figure out what is happening? I am writing this in my basement, and I am quite literally fearing for my life.

I live on the Isle of Wight. Specifically, I live in East Cowes. It's a medium-sized town, but its population fluctuates dramatically because of the arrival of the ferries which carry tourists and residents from the mainland to the island and back. My house's living room looks out over the Cowes harbour, where the boats arrive. It's quite a relaxing sight, witnessing the frequent, quiet hum of the engines at the dock. I thought that here, on an island away from the coast, nothing could get on which would be that serious of a threat. I thought wrong.

Two weeks ago, my Cat started carrying out some strange sort of 'Ritual', as I call it. At exactly 10:30 PM, he jumped onto the windowsill of my living room, walk behind the curtains, and start staring out into the harbour. I figured that something to do with the ferry engines aroused his attention, and he simply wanted to watch. At first, I could calm him down by attracting him back off the windowsill by showing him his food or stroking him, but eventually he'd pretty much remain affixed to the window, stuck in an astounded gaze. One week after he started, I tried to lift him off the windowsill, but he lashed out at me. I tried five minutes later, and he extended his claws into the wooden windowsill. Afraid of hurting his paws, I backed off.

I forgot to mention this earlier, but his ritual always ends ten minutes after it begins. He then jumps off the windowsill and behaves like