Diana Fieg Monaco Unmasks Hudson Valley Cat Burglar

Something was wrong.  Very wrong.

Diana Fieg Monaco checked the cat food and checked it again.  This had been going on for days.  Or was it weeks?  Either the food was disappearing or her cat, Puppy Kitty Doyle, was eating her out of house and home.

Puppy Kitty Doyle Up a Tree

Now wait a minute.  How much food could Doyle eat anyhow?  For that matter, how much food could any one cat eat?  He wasn't any fatter and, of course, it was pointless to check his pockets.  And yet, Diana's purse was plainly thinner.  What's going on?  The food is vanishing! Well, isn't it?

Unexpectedly, the answer was suddently upon her.

She was in her home office as usual, running her travel business.  Doyle, faithfully employed as guard cat for a number of years, was at her side, lying on his side with his head upright, lightly dozing, arms neatly folded before him and totally oblivious, as was she, to the fact that -- an intruder was in the house!

Some guard cat.

Suddenly there was a movement in the corner of Diana's eye.  She turned.!  She looked.  She gasped!  A stranger had just poked her head into the room! A cat!  A cat!  A cat she had never seen before!

Shamelessly,  Doyle couldn't care less.  He didn't even bother to hide it.  Obviously, he knows her.  Of course,  Doyle comes and goes as he pleases, through his own little cat door to the cellar, and out another cat door at the cellar window, which leads outside.

That two-timing little sneak.  Doyle evidently had been plying his new -- uh, friend -- with Diana's food,  or at least showing the way to get inside and find the goodies.  The newcomer had made herself right at home.

Now what can Diana do?  Seal off Puppy Kitty Doyle's cat doors?  Lock him out?  Fire him as guard cat?  Would excommunication be too much?

No, no, it looks from here,  if it isn't plain to Diana already, that Doyle now has a cat of his own.  Oh,  the shame!  The scandal!  The duplicity and betrayal! Why do so many women put up with this sort of thing?  Fear? The need for security?

It's a sad commentary,  but as anyone who knows feline types can tell you:  Nobody, but nobody, owns a cat.  Totally self-absorbed,  they're loyal to no one.  What you've heard about dogs simply does not apply.  A cat is his own best friend.

Ed. note:  Diana tells me the new cat's name is The Moocher, called Mooch for short.