I have spent much of today being entertained by the animals.
The new chick is a source of fascination for Westie Boy, Fido and Marple. Fortunately, it is protected in its run from their all too easy to read desires.
To see Fido’s dedication click on this link.
Better Than Television
Remember Ginger-Odysseus-Now-George? MasterB’s bookend who was rehomed by <a href=”http://hamiltonscatfund.co.uk/”>Hamilton’s Cat Fund</a> and went to live in Sevenoaks?Here he is in our garden in the days when he was living rough, playing with the catnip sock. <a href=”https://isobelandcat.wordpress.com/2012/10/01/working-out-their-relationship/ginger-loves-catnip/#main” rel=”attachment wp-att-6349″><img src=”https://isobelandcat.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/ginger-loves-catnip.jpg?w=652″ alt=”Ginger Likes Catnip” width=”652″ height=”489″ class=”size-large wp-image-6349″ /></a> Ginger Likes Catnip I asked after him this morning when I left a protesting MasterB at the cattery. I was fearful that it hadn’t worked out, that he had been returned as unsatisfactory and unsuitable. It seemed such a leap for him in such a short space of time, and I wondered if he’d cope. Well he has. Hamilton’s Cat Fund get regular and glowing reports of him. He is as indulged as any cat could possibly be. His owners are adoring and delighted. They want the world to know what a splendid cat he is and he even has his own Facebook page. It’s better than Cinderella.<!–more–> Next I asked about this little soul, Izzy. <a href=”https://isobelandcat.wordpress.com/2012/12/29/kitten-nativity/kitten/#main” rel=”attachment wp-att-6986″><img src=”https://isobelandcat.files.wordpress.com/2012/12/kitten.jpg?w=652″ alt=”Little Kitten” width=”652″ height=”488″ class=”size-large wp-image-6986″ /></a> Little Kitten If ever there was a cat who was destined for stage and screen this was the one. She virtually had the tutu and tap dancing shoes on to welcome visitors to the cattery before she was homed a few doors away. Again, her owners adored her. They were besotted in days. And now they are heartbroken. She got out to the front of the house aboiut four weeks ago. It’s a busy road. You can guess the rest. At least she had several months being happy and loved. It’s more than some cats have in a lifespan of years. Now it’s time for me to close the windows, pick up my bags and head for the station. I expect I’ll have updates to share on Westie Boy, the Big Cat, and other animals known on this page.
I woke up at six and was disoriented by the dark. London never gets completely dark, but I am in the country for a few days and the moon is a slim crescent just now. A second or so passed before I remembered. I turned over and went back to sleep then woke again an hour or so later. The heating had come on. I rarely have the heating on in my bedroom at home. I realise now it is an effective way of waking me up. I got up and went into the kitchen to make some breakfast, an activity that had to be delayed while Westie Boy greeted me enthusiastically. One thing led to another, and after he had been out for an inspection of the garden, we had a bit of a lovefest and a game. The Big Cat came in and I lifted her over the gate away from her canine tormentor. She headed for the bathroom and her cosy basket nook behind the hot press.
It’s a grey morning but dry, in fact the forecast looks very hopeful. I don’t know what plans there are today. When I come here I love the chilling out I get to do, the abdicating of decision making. Cousin is an undemanding hostess. I can make my own meals, bake if the mood takes me, play with the dog and cats, curl up in a chair and read. We watched television last night, Channel 4 News, The Last Leg, a detective series whose title I’ve forgotten that I’ve not seen before but shall watch again, Graham Norton. Continue reading
I was just going out after lunch when I met a neighbour. She can be quite loud, and Not Cat loves her. After we had discussed various issues affecting life in the block – people putting plastic bags in the recycling and chicken bones in the compost – she told me that the ginger ninja had visited another neighbour’s ground floor flat, gaining entry via an open window.
He wasn’t actually seen, but he left a trail of muddy paw prints across the newly changed bed linen.
What am I going to do with him?
Here he is wreaking havoc at home earlier today.
The Ginger Ninja
My, how my boy has grown up. Here he is this morning, in a tree in a neighbour’s garden. He has his eye on something, but I don’t know what it is.
His social circle is growing with him.
He has a play date shortly with the little girl from down the road and her friend. Yes, really.
I knew this wasn’t going to be the prettiest of Not Cat’s playthings when I ordered it online, but the sheer ugliness of the colour really makes me wonder what the makers have against people who buy their pets toys.
I opened it up on the landing. It was an immediate success. Not Cat got into it, moved about in it, climbed in and out, went back to it, sniffed it, gave it an experimental chew. When I tried to move it, he claimed ownership.
I can’t quite bring myself to bring it inside the flat yet. He’s asleep on the sofa, so I may just have to fold it and wait until I am feeling stronger.
If his enthusiasm holds, I may get some better photos, in the meantime, I give you Not Cat and the Cat Play Cube:
Not Cat was at the far end of the garden playing with some leaves. He was in explorer/adventurer mode. You could almost see a gold ring piercing his ear and a bright sash at his waist.
I sat outside shelling peas for dinner. Not Cat raced up then down the cherry tree, then round it. Each time I got up to put more peapods in the compost, he came with me, taking the corner at a run and swerving round the side of the building. I was glad to see him using up his energy.
The peas finished, I wanted to see if I could get a photograph of Sonny before it got too dark. He likes to sit in the shadow of the wall or a shrub, and as he’s black, the photographs are often disappointing, though I did take some of him in full sunlight earlier in the year.
Not Cat trotted over to see what i was doing and settled down on the path near Sonny.
On the Path
Minstrel Checks the Coast is Clear
He’s not my favourite cat, and Cat used to beat him up on a daily basis for most of his life until last year when Minstrel slowly worked out that his tormentor was not as fit and young as he had been. At which point, the worm turned, and Minstrel started to flex his also aging muscles. Continue reading
Bear with me; it’s for a bit more techno practice…
The dog is C, rescued by Cousin’s Son, but now living with Cousin. Toothless but with attitude. When you first meet him, he seems quite unattractive, but as you get to know him he becomes more and more endearing and you find yourself thinking he’s quite handsome!
The cat, P, is another of Cousin’s Son’s Rescues. She lives with Cousin’s Son, but commutes to the country for rest and relaxation and to intimidate Cousin’s Cat.
But Cousin’s Cat can have a post of her own because she is the sweetest purriest cat with a bent tail you will ever see.