There may appear to be no obvious link between my credit card provider and cat shit but, in recent months, I have had battles with them both and, in unintentional synchronicity, both have been resolved at much the same time.

I won’t repeat the long and sorry story of my credit card woes (if you are really bored, you can read about it here. Ed.), but the upshot was that I was attempting to reclaim interest charges, which I felt had been unfairly added to my monthly statement.

To their credit (their forte, after all, Ed.), I received a response from my credit card company to my query very quickly.  It laid out in an introductory paragraph a long precis of my complaint, almost as exhaustive as my original blog.  It followed this by a short statement to say that my case had been considered but my complaint had not been upheld:

“I’ve reviewed your concerns and I’m unable to uphold your complaint.  I know this might be disappointing for you.”

And then it concluded with the report that they were going to refund me the disputed interest anyway!

I am left not knowing whether to feel angry, amused or pleased.  On consideration, I have decided that a Reclaimed Interest in the hand is better than An Apology in the bush, and so I am closing the file on this particular battle with the outcome noted: won.

In some ways, my battle against the cat shitting in my garden is similarly contentious.  No Shit Shirley has provided valiant defence of my territory for four months now, during which time my garden has remained a shit-free zone.  But, I am sad to report, that Shirley is no more.  Storm Ciara blanched her rosily-painted cheeks; whilst Storm Dennis physically stripped her prettily-patterned floral dress.  No Shit Shirley has scared her last cat, and has been forced into a well-deserved retirement.

It remains to be seen whether the cat will return in Shirley’s absence.  I am leaving the file on this battle open: pending developments.

© Simon Turner-Tree

For Simon Turner-Tree the fight never stops.