It’s alright, we’re used to the gang warfare

I completely forgot about bonfire night the other day until about half way through the work day when I just blurted out to the partner I share an office with: “I forgot it is bonfire night tonight.”

Then that was the end of that conversation.

It was brought up again when one of my colleagues walked into the office to give me a file back. She had mentioned it was bonfire night and then immediately went: “Oh, what about your cats?” My instant response was “I’m going to stop you right there, the cats aren’t going to care at all.”

Now, it turned out I was mostly right about this assumption. I already know from experience that Oscar and Raven just do not care about the loud noises of fireworks. I know this because for at least two months, there have been child gangs roaming the area I live, firing off fireworks. Doesn’t matter what time of day it is, you can almost guarantee there will be fireworks. Now, don’t ask me where these people got the fireworks in such plentiful supply, because I have no clue.I also have no idea why they would choose fireworks in the first place or why they would continue after one of them was arrested about a month ago out the back of my flat, but then again, I’ve never been in a child gang, so I can’t say I’m in the right mindset.

In contrast to the child gangs running around Harehills, I am the type of person that gets nervous around police for no reason) (despite never having done anything worthy of police attention to the point when a friend said crack within 10 feet of  policewoman a few months back, I immediately reacted with: “You can’t say crack near a policeman..”

That says a lot about me.

Anyway, back to bonfire night. Now, I was right that Raven and Oscar did not care about the noise of the fireworks, so for the first part of the evening, we were completely fine. It was only when the firework crews ended up in front of the flat with fireworks that actually flashed as well that we had the problem. Raven and Oscar have both developed this unhealthy interest in the fireworks so were sat in the window watching. When the gangs started firing the flashing fireworks, the cats did not like it. That was the only time they were away from the window, and to be fair, their fear seemed to subside within about 20 seconds. After that they didn’t care.

They are hardened to the firework gang warfare of Harehills.

Unfortunately, I am not. And neither are other people in the area. At one point I risked a look out the window and the whole street was just filled with smoke. There was a car just pulling onto the street and at this point the youths were in the middle of the road. The driver of the car took one look at what was going on (lots of youths firing fireworks at houses and cars) and just reversed back. Smart move mysterious driver, smart move.

I suppose my hardened cats are better than having two cats who can’t stand fireworks or they would never leave their safe spot under the sofa. Or they would spend their lives hidden in a cupboard somewhere for safety.

But firework gangs? I still can’t get over it. You stay classy, Harehills.

This is what Raven and Oscar will have become by the time I move out of Harehills

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