Since the beginning of last summer I have been looking for an opportunity to spray with water a cat that loves to shit on my terrace. What is worse, it often suffers from diarrhea. About a year old, it is shy past compare. Whenever I would spot it on the terrace, it would already be out of reach. Or there would be no water at hand, although a full glass had been waiting for months at a windowsill facing the terrace. But today I finally got the little rascal. I walked out on the terrace with a glass of white wine in hand. It was full. And very cold. When I first saw the cat, it darted to the lower part of the terrace, whence there is no escape. Realizing its mistake, it scampered back and headed for the stairs leading to the upper part of the terrace, next to the kitchen, whence it came. But I was right in its path. As the cat dashed toward me, I emptied the glass right into its face. Splat! The sound was absolutely delicious. Following the cat’s dripping trail, I was overtaken by joy. After so many months of stalking the damned cat, I felt outright victorious. No more shitting on the terrace, I dare to hope.