SWW Productions: A Cat Named Spat!

I shall tell you of a cat that was called Spat...

April 12 1934

To my dearly beloved Joanne,

My stay in Fenwick as been littered daily with joy! The sun has been full and marvellous during the day and business has been good from morn till noon! There has not been a day that has gone by without something magical taking place! These have been my happiest days, and they would have been even happier if you had been with me! In fact it has been the loneliness that has served as my greatest enemy since I arrived on the island, but I feel now that I have found the means by which I might thwart its empty tendrils...

I have purchased myself a companion - a cat in fact. I cat who I have fondly named Spat... I hope to introduce him to you one day, maybe when you visit me next!

Your Beloved

William

April 21 1934

To my dearly beloved William,

Your letter was a delight for my eyes to read! I am so happy that you are enjoying your time in Fenwick! I am most pleased to hear that business has been going well. A cat you say? How wonderful. Cats make for marvellous companions. I steadfast agree with your choice of name - Spat. Most noble. Very catchy. Very cat-like. I am looking forward to meeting Spat. And you of course, when I visit you next year.

Best wishes to you my love!

Joanne

April 29 1934

To the wonderful Joanne,

Yes business is going very well! It seems that the people of Fenwick cannot get enough of crabs! I have never seen so many of the crawling things - and seals as well by the dozen. Seals can be quite frightening animals up close. They are very curious beasts! These blubbery interlopers often interfere with our work - but we have a warden armed with a stick to keep them at bay! We must work fast. Each shipment of crabs must be brought in, salted and packed before night. If the work is not done by nightfall then the seals will find a way into our storage unit and eat our quarry! I never thought seals could be such a nuisance but well, there you go! I don't think they have these kinds of troubles back in old blighty, but then what do I know? I am new to this business! But I do know there is more money to be made from crabs here in Fenwick then there is back home... The French want them. The Brits want them. The Irish want them. The Brazilians want them! O yes Fenwick is indeed crab country. And of course Spat has been a delight! My new friend is a true wonder! Very homely. Very friendly. Never goes outside... A very curious cat! Anyway that is all I have to say today my love. Looking forward to seeing you soon.

All my love,

William.

May 5th 1934

To my dearest most gentle William,

I cannot wait to meet Spat! He sounds adorable. A homely cat? So strange. Most cats enjoy adventures in the great outdoors. At least you do not have to keep a look out for him! I must once again commend you on your choice of name for the creature... Spat! Such a lovely name, so noble, so refined. I love it. Marvellous! You really know what you are doing don't you dear William? It must be a TRUE privilege to have a cat called Spat!

Ever yours,

Joanne.

May 17th 1934

To Joanne my truest love,

I write now with hatred in my hand! It is that darn cat called Spat! Wretched cat. A deep darkness has been developing in my heart against that fiend! He truly is a wretch. Strange things started happening between the cat and I two weeks ago. Whenever I came home from work I would find the cat sleeping in my chair. ALWAYS sleeping in my chair! A cat should know better! I would order it to move, and it would NOT move. It attacked me one night while I was asleep, but that is NOT the worst of it...

It has started talking to me, Joanne... Yes! Speaking to me in English! It torments me day as well as night. It haunts me in my nightmares. The cat says strange things to me when I am awake and when I am asleep... O if it was not for your loyalty and love Joanne I would not be able to cope with this new horror in my life!

Please help save me from that wretched cat called Spat!

Your forlorn and weary love,

William.

May 25th 1934

To William the crab farmer,

I am sad to hear that you are having such trouble with your cat, Spat. I wish I could help you! It would appear that your pet has become a pest! I am sad for you. Do not despair. I am sure, in time, that your kindness and good nature will flow into the cat - and again, with time, and with enough time basking in your presence, Spat will learn to respect you and will grow to become a most noble companion to you! Give it time, my love. The cat named Spat will find a way.

I love you deeply, and I am sure Spat does too,

Joanne.

June 5th 1934

My dearly beloved Joanne,

I fear that this latest letter will be my last letter!

The horror of that cat continues to grow worse...

The cat haunts me... each night it haunts me. It has become a ghost out of a nightmare. It claws at me. It keeps me awake at night. It cries - it always cries. Such horrible sounds it delivers to my ears. That cat is a foul thing. And it torments me with its words - every syllable it utters through its whiskers is a terror to me... 'I am watching you,' it says. 'My eyes are on you ever on you!' When I wake up from sleep the cat is watching me - 'I am watching you,' he says. He locked the door on my once when I was returning from work. I don't know how he did it but he did. I had to climb through the window and he was there, waiting on my chair, waiting for me. 'I am always watching you,' he said. 'I can never stop watching you!' One night I locked myself in the attic. I thought it was the safest place to be. But somehow the cat found his way to me. 'I am watching you. I am always watching you!'

I am lost and without hope. These may be my last days.

Your love,

William.

June 17th 1934

To my generous father,

Today the will of my recently departed love William was read out to me. Among the details of his will it read that I am to inherit his cat Spat. But I cannot keep the wretched creature... It stalks me in the night... it speaks to me. 'I am watching you,' it says. Father! I am putting this foul cat in a bundle and I am sending him to you. You have always been better with animals than I. I am sorry but I cannot allow this evil creature anywhere near me! I have been left deeply disturbed by my experiences with this cat... I find the odious creature offensive. I am ashamed to have ever been acquainted with the feline fiend. If only I had the power to purge the creature from my memory! I want it gone, do you hear? I want it GONE!

Fare thee well dearest father.

Your loyal daughter,

Joanne.

June 29th 1934

To my kind brother Phillip,

I received an unpleasant and unwanted delivery this morning from my daughter Joanne. I awoke to find a cat sitting on my doorstep. At first I was delighted, I like cats, I thought how thoughtful it was of my daughter to ship me such a gift!

But the cat has turned out to be a foul villain! It stalks me wherever I walk. It is in my shadow at home and follows me to work! It has attacked me thrice in the face - and it talks to me - it whispers to me in the night, 'I am watching you.' I cannot cope with this feral beast! So I am sending this cat called Spat to you, my brother, because I know you and your ways. You are far better at dealing with rebellious animals than I ever was. You are a natural man, a man of the country! Good luck to you, my brother,

Greg.

July 9th 1934

To my brother Greg,

That cat turned out to be a curious thing! I could see that the creature had a rebel eye and a rebel look. I took it upon myself as my mission to tame the beast. I live in the woods and I washed the cat in a bowel of mud. The cat took a great disdain to me after that, and tried to run away! I brought the cat back. Then I tried to feed it eggs. It is all I have got to eat, my goose eggs. But the cat wouldn't have it! The cat appears to have developed a deep contempt for goose eggs - such a pity! The cat also appears to be offended by the smell of my shoes, for whenever I put my shoes near the animal it screeches with horror! I do not understand why, for I find the aroma of my shoes to be a rather pleasant one. And let us not talk about my socks. I never wash my sockets, I just put them outside and let the open air do its thing. Once I put my socks next to the cat and the cat jumped into the air with horror! One night, while preparing for bed, I took off my socks and threw them in the air. I was aiming for the window, but through the workings of some impossible misfortune they missed the window and landed directly on top of the cats head! It ran away again and I have never been able to find the creature since.

And so that is the end of that - that cat called Spat!

Your brother,

Phillip.