In October 2012 I was outside my front door, carrying the birthday present I had bought for myself - a Mulberry Del Rey - in a beautiful purple Liberty bag, and speaking to my dad on the phone when I heard a couple arguing inside my building. I thought nothing of it and carried on with my conversation.
I called my mum and headed inside, up the stairs, and into the flat. I remember seeing my flatmate tying her trainers outside her bedroom but, again, thought nothing of it. Her cats adored me and followed me into my room. I shut the door and continued chatting away to my mum. All of a sudden my flatmate and her husband started having a blazing row which sounded pretty violent. She then shouted at me through my door 'Emma get down'. I absolutely shat my pants. From the way they were both talking I thought he had a gun. This sounds like an insane conclusion to jump to but he had just come back from Afghanistan so I thought he may have the means and he was a tad cuckoo anyway.
I instantly went into panic/survival mode. My poor mum was flipping out on the phone as I asked her to call the police as I thought my flatmate had a gun. It was terrifying. I hung up from my mum and started moving things in front of my door to block it. I put my trainers on in case I needed to jump out of the window (a stupid thought really as we were on the top floor of a 3 storey house) and tried desperately to calm the cats down.
Luckily for me my flatmate managed to coax her hubby out of the flat. She told me later that he tried to strangle a taxi driver and about ten armed police officers pinned him to the ground in sleepy Hampstead. He didn't actually have a gun. He wasn't well after his stint in the Army which is actually pretty sad but I knew that I would never feel safe again in that place.
So me and the boyf moved. The flat wasn't the greatest and clearly, neither were our flatmates, but the area was amazing and I loved those cats like crazy. I kind of wish I had stolen them!
I'm not really a believer in much but I do tend to think that things happen for a reason. If my flatmate hadn't gone psycho on me I might not have moved so soon and I almost certainly would not have bought the little flat that I am in now. Sometimes life throws you a curveball and you just have to roll with it.
This is one of my all time fave shots of the boyf with Mooey (aka Fatsy).
Sorry for the long and, kind of meaningless, post. You can never have too many shots of cats though, eh?