Guppy fixes his door

Guppy stared at the jagged axe hole in his door, and decided that he had waited long enough. Going into his bedroom, he came back with a piece of chipboard that he had bought earlier, and varnished so that it was vaguely the same colour as his door. Then armed with a hammer and a couple of nails, he proceeded to repair the door.
He had just put the first nail in when there was a violent knock from the other side, which caused the piece of chipboard to drop off again onto the floor, narrowly avoiding his toe. Through the hole, seething with rage, was his landlady.
“What the hell are you doing bashing nails into my door?”
Guppy went red.
“I’m fixing it. It’s got a hole in it, remember?”
“That’s an antique door that is. I won’t have you bashing nails into it.”
“But it already has a huge gap. I’m going to get burgled sooner or later. I have offered to buy you a new one and install it too.”
His landlady stepped into his flat. A big ginger cat was draped around her shoulders like some sort of scarf.
“You can’t buy doors like this any more. It will ruin the décor to have a different one. You must wait until there is one available at auction, then I will buy it and charge you for it.”
“Could I not buy my own door in the meantime, or at least fix this one?”
“No, you can’t.”
“But it’s covered in cardboard now, surely that looks no better.”
“The cardboard matches the door.”
Guppy thought for a moment not prepared to be outwitted by his landlady.
“What if I put wood behind the cardboard? Then it would look the same and still be safe.”
She considered this.
“Very well, but I don’t want to hear any banging. If I do, the hammer is confiscated.”
She shuffled off back to her own room and slammed the door, narrowly missing the tail of one of her other cats, the black one, who wandered out of his room to see what Guppy was doing so that he could get in the way.
Painstakingly Guppy drew around the inside of the hole to make a template, then cut the cardboard out and stuck it onto the wood, so that it fitted into the hole. Then, balancing the wood precariously on his knee, he began once more.
“I can hear you Dr Sandhu!”
He swore under his breath and stopped. He went into his kitchen and got a variety of soft objects. He then put a duster around the hammer, laid the wood on the floor and put four sponges underneath. He then proceeded to bang, or rather thump, the nails in until they were just peeping out from the other side. Then he lifted it up and, putting a duster underneath to soften the noise drove the nails into the door.
He stepped back, satisfied, and tried to remove the dusters. They wouldn’t budge. He tugged at them hard but there was no way that they were coming out. In the end, he cut the sticking out edges off, because they just looked silly. With a look of pleasure at his handiwork, he went into the kitchen to have a cup of tea.
About half a minute later there was a loud crash and the sound of a cat yowling. He ran back into his living room to find Blackie standing on top of the wood, which he had knocked off the door. It wasn’t entirely his fault; he had been using the cardboard as a cat flap for a week. With a sigh, Guppy put down his tea and went to find some screws.