I missed the opening minutes of the news on Channel 4 tonight but tuned in to hear that 1300 people of the Windrush Generation have been identified as suffering the effects of Theresa May’s vaunted Hostile Environment. Make that 1300 so far. Think about that number. It’s not small, it’s not insignificant. Imagine 1300 of your neighbours being told they had no right to remain in this country. I used to live in a village with a population of 600. It would have been emptied twice over. I’ve worked in schools with 1000 pupils. Imagine them all gone, and their teachers and maybe all the pupils and staff from the local primary school too to make up the 1300.
What times we live in. Continue reading
The first part of my journey went beautifully, and after one false stop at a garden and pet centre, I turned down the unmade up track to the Cat Sanctuary.
It was a bit pongy inside, but an almost Siamese was being cuddled and fussed by staff. I think he’s a fixture. He certainly behaved as though he owned the place. The naughty tortie I’d seen online has gone, but Alfie and Mistry were still there and a ginger called Sandy. Suddenly my world seems to be full of ginger cats called Sandy. Are there an equal number of tabby Julians I want to know.
Sandy was sweet and affectionate, had been living rough and fed by builders who brought him in. We were getting on quite well, despite his stringy tail and pigeon chest, when the staff mentioned he had a grade 1 heart murmur. I know it’s silly, but with Cat’s recent heart failure and death, I could almost see this boy suffering the same distressing end.
Moving on. Mistry is a Madam. A British Blue who came from a multiple cat home. She wants affection, and attention, but she’s not sure how to get either without losing face. She pushed me away and then invited me back. I rather liked her. Tail like a bottle brush. I’m only just realising that I like a cat to have a thick tail. Do they ever bulk out, does anyone know? Can they fill out as the rest of the cat puts on weight? Or is a cat with a stringy tail always a cat with a stringy tail?
In his online photo, Alfie looks like a tabby, but he’s a big grey boy who sleeps in odd poses. He did wake up when I stroked his head and he patted my hands gently, no claws, something Cat rarely managed, but he was not going to get out of bed. So I don’t know what his tail is like, because it was wrapped round him. Continue reading