Wednesday 17 April 2013

Distressing confrontation regarding my cats.

It's a marvel that the post I made this morning on my latest film seen was comprehensible. I was shaking when I wrote it - and even now, nine hours later, my heart is still thumping like mad.

Every day for the last twelve years or more I've let Blackso outside, early mornings usually between 5 and 6, through the front door downstairs after his breakfast, then bring him back in half an hour later for 'seconds' and then let him out again. No problem. Until now.
As I was letting him out this morning the guy in the downstairs flat pulled his door open, stood there red-faced and barked "D'you have any idea what f*ckin' time this is!" I said, taken aback, that I did know. "I've just about had enough of you and your f*ckin' cats. Every f*ckin' morning you wake me up. Just because you don't work do you think that no one else does? Did you know that you're not allowed to have pets? I'm going to report you to the landlord." I said that the landlord knew I had cats. He ignored that. "I'm going to see to it that you have to f*ckin' get rid of them!" He ranted on for a couple more minutes in similar vein while I stood there silent and gobsmacked. Then he retreated back inside, slamming the door so hard that the whole house shook. I couldn't believe what had just happened. I came back upstairs and sat paralyzed, until I had to go out for my review appointment with the diabetes nurse. (Latest prognosis results are good, though my thoughts during the session were very far away).

This downstairs neighbour is a little younger than me with a face that says he's lived a lot. I think he looks considerably older than he is. Separated from his wife, who still visits him here weekly, together with their daughter, maybe about 10 years old. Evidence from his bin, which I put out every week for both of us, is that he's a hardened drinker.

On returning from the nurse I knew I couldn't just leave things as they were but had to try to move forward. So I wrote out a long note to him, basically saying that I've never had complaints before from the previous five tenants (including two working couples), but that as he's genuinely disturbed by my routine I'll have to get Blackso to learn to use the back window, (though how, now at the age of 13, he can learn that, I don't know).But I also managed to put a bit of a sting in the tail. I asked him to let me know from what time in the morning I can be allowed to use my own door. A bit cheeky but I needed to get a dig in somehow. I went on further, among other things pointing out that the landlord had, in fact, permitted the previous tenant in his flat to own a large dog. After checking that I was satisfied with my effort I left the note downstairs in the hall for him.
About an hour later I heard a knocking on my door. The transformation was immense. He was profusely apologetic about what he'd said to me. He'd been wound up by the young guys in the house next door making so much noise throughout the night depriving him of sleep. (I hadn't heard them.) He was sorry he'd threatened me about the cats, knew how much they meant to me and knew that I regarded them as my 'children'. He said he had no real intention to report me. He was determined to find out who owned the house next door so he could to report them. (I think the guys actually own that house themselves!) He begged me, in spite of what he'd said, not to change my routine. But he also went further and said that he could hear every step I made in this flat above him - he knew when I went to bed and could even hear me snoring. I wish he hadn't said all that. It's news to me and it's now made me acutely aware of every move I make here.
Despite his insistence I dare not uses the front door again at that early hour. He is the kind of person who I suspect could well have had a violent past and I don't want him to be charging out at me, knife in hand. Blackso will just have to go out through the back window - and if he doesn't work out that he can also come back in that way at anytime I'll just have to leave him sitting outside on the garden wall looking up longingly for me to go down and carry him in. The worst thing I can imagine happening is not just the chap complaining about me to the landlord, but if he does anything to the cats themselves - or makes me have to give them up. In the latter cases I just don't know what I'll do, but I'm pretty sure it will be something drastic.

So that's the position as at now. How it'll develop I don't know. I just wish I could scoop up all (4?) of my pussies and go and live with them in an isolated house somewhere.

18 comments:

  1. Ah the joys of living in a shared building!
    Well you broke the ice and. Sorted the whole thing out so good for you.
    I can appreciate how angry he felt as I don't do mornings at all....
    Don't let it bother you

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    1. I only wish I could shrug it off, J.G., but it's made a deep scar and is something I won't ever be able to forget, much as I'd like to.
      Experience long ago taught me that no matter where one lives, even if owning the property, there is ALWAYS some greater or lesser problem with neighbours. Lifestyles will always collide to some extent.

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    2. And by the sound of it..it was his traumas that were accidentally visited on you...
      He apologised .....that alone is a good thing
      Chin up

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    3. Exactly right, J.G., but the terrain between us has changed for good. I just can't laugh it off and put it all behind me, though I wish I was someone (like you?) who could. I agree it would have been a completely impossible situation if he hadn't apologised so I'll try to be grateful for that, at least.

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  2. I have never followed your posts before and only chanced upon you by following another bloggers link.
    I feel your pain. As a youngster I assumed that other people saw situations in exactly the same way I did. As I matured I realised that people did not always see things my way.
    Try to forget his outburst, he probably has. He apologised ! profusely ! for him it is over. Don't go giving yourself anxiety if he could be that rude and direct his fuse is clearly very short- he probably gets rid of his emotions in one big Whoosh and there really is no residual tension. It saddens me that we can't all work a bit harder to see the sensitive souls - which you seem to be one of.

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    1. Hello T. Thanks very much for your visit.
      I think you're right in that the incident is probably over for him but the very fact that he could turn on me like that, for the first time in the 1.5 years he's been here, makes me very worried that he could just as easily do it again, only more violently next time. It's not only for my own safety I'm concerned but what he might, in a fit of rage, do to my furry friends, which is far easier to accomplish and with less likelihood of serious consequences for him. Even now, more than 24 hours later, I'm still shaking. If there are any further developments I'll post another blog. But very many thanks for your kind words which are much appreciated.

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  3. That level of confrontation would bother me significantly too Ray... I don't do confrontation!
    But I'm most impressed that you wrote the note and also pleased that he came around and was civil, even friendly to you.
    Just remember, it's a shared building... you have as many rights as he does, even at 5.30AM.

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    1. Yes, Craig. Speaking generally I do almost anything to avoid conflict, even if it means subsuming my own rights to those of others. I suppose it might be looked on as cowardly but it's also another form of self-protection - and, in this case, there's not just myself who needs assurance of safety.
      In spite of his apology and climb-down it cannot be avoided that the dynamics of our relationship have changed forever. I might superficially wear a smile for him but I can never trust him again. I just wish he'd move away or.....(I should not dare to say it.) But one never knows if the next person after him coming into the flat may, for example, have an allergy to cat fur. It's at time like this that I wish there was someone on hand here whom I could talk to and provide a degree of support.

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    1. Dreadful experience, A.M. I'm feeling emotionally all done in.

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  5. I am sorry for the awful confrontation and scare. I think you are smart to stay cautious and untrusting of this whack job!

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    1. Many thanks for your especially valued sympathy, S/b. I suppose it's just as well that the episode is over without any physical violence, though I'm feeling completely drained inside. I've always stayed aloof from him, while being friendly on the surface - just as I have for all his predecessors in that flat. But he's the first one of whom I have every reason to be suspicious and wary of for all future time, having now had first hand experience of his nasty and potentially violent side. I dare say that the subject may well give rise to another incident in the future, alarming though the possibility may be.

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  6. Disturbing! I am sorry, but I cannot advise you to forget this alarming incident. You have experienced first-hand his violent temper. And temper fueled by liquor - well tragic things can happen. Be vigilant and watch your cats at all times. Remember, there is a lot of evil in this world.

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    1. Thanks, Paul.
      I've just this minute brought in Blackso from outside, over three hours since putting him out of the back window. I'm afraid that in the interim my heart has been breaking and I've been on the edge of tears knowing that if I looked out of the window I'd see him sitting there on the wall looking up, waiting for me to acknowledge him with a wave before going down to carry him in. I'm always being told that cats readily adapt to circumstances, even if it means having to find a new home. I don't dispute that but just knowing that they are in anxiety, let alone actual physical suffering, just crushes me internally and I'd do so much to alleviate the situation for them.
      Now he's just had his much-delayed second breakfast and he's come here into the living room, sitting in the window with the warm sun streaming through. In 5 minutes he'll be asleep, having completely forgotten his being 'neglected' for 3 hours and oblivious to the mental torments that I've been and still am going through.

      There is a possible outcome of this matter which is shameful to even think about. Not only is this chap downstairs a heavy drinker and smoker, he told me that he has a 'dicky' heart and has had a pacemaker fitted. Maybe, just maybe......no, I refuse to even consider naming it!

      Btw: I'm a bit confused about his 'little girl' visiting him every week-end, with her mother/his wife. She is 10, 11 - perhaps 12 years old, tops - and yet HE is, so he says, 65. Of course it's not impossible but it must be fairly unusual for there to be such an age gap between parent and child. I wonder if there's something more going on than he says. I would have though that if they really are related the girl would be more likely to be his grand-daughter. But I don't know - and don't really care - as long as my pussies stay safe.

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  7. Blackso, sound asleep, with the sun streaming through the window, paints a nice comforting picture in my mind. For a few hours, all is well.

    I hope that you realize that you have many friends through your blog and at this stressful time, I hope you feel free to 'talk' about your worries and concerns. We are all here for you.

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    1. I realise that, Paul - and am very grateful indeed that friends like you are out there. The computer is my sole means of receiving support and sympathy - other than from my sister, whom I've told and who's always very supportive. However, I'm just one of more than 20 in her extended family, including great-grandchildren, so I can't rely on her too much. Besides, she's 300 miles away. But it's reassuring to know that you and others can make me feel better anytime I need it.

      Now that the sun has moved on and Blackso's had a long snooze, he's gone out again. But at least in the daytime I can fetch him in whenever he's out there waiting. Tomorrow morning will be my/our next ordeal - and I dread when we're having bad, wet weather.

      Since the downstairs chap told me that he can hear every step of mine up here I've been creeping around almost on tip-toe, even asking myself if I've really got to go from one room to another at all when it can be avoided. I know it's carrying things to extremes but I'm just trying to make my presence as inconspicuous as possible. Not that it's likely to help much when he turns nasty again, which is bound to come.

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  8. Not much more unsettling to pet owners than someone threatening the pets. I am so sorry you had that experience. It is nice that he attempted to 'make nice' though it sounds a little like a battering spouse promising to never do it again. Not an easy thing to do when you share a dwelling space but I would give this guy as wide a berth as possible.

    Good luck!

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    1. Thanks, H.K. Haven't bumped into him since the 'event', but even now, 10 days later and despite his climb-down (for the moment) I feel the 'lie of the land' between us has changed permanently. I just don't feel safe with him living under me, never knowing if he's going to jump out, knife in hand.

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