Monday, 28 January 2013


First off, apologies to the several people who are waiting to hear from me about volunteering to help with the cats but I'm in the process of moving into a house which I've only just finished having done up. Once I'm actually in my new home I'm going to get the new re-homing centre properly sorted.

In the last week, we've re-homed 3 cats from there taking the total up to 7 in seven weeks which I'm quite happy with. One of the cats was stumpy-tailed tabby Jay, and also my personal favourite the talkative ginger boy. Carole has re-homed a couple of adults and some kittens from her end and she's taken in a couple of young cats which I rescued. As more than a couple of cats have been re-homed as a result of people reading this blog  which I'm obviously pleased about (yay, me!), here's an updated collection of photos of those still wanting homes. Three more additions are due at the end of the week and I've an idea about how we can increase the intake and turnover.

I don't know what it is about black and white cats but they are nearly always the last to be re-homed. Maybe it's just because there tend to be more of them than any other kind but they are just as loving and affectionate as the others. We have five in this house and they are all equally, if in different ways, completely lovable.

Saturday, 5 January 2013


I'm normally an early riser, six to six thirty being the norm for me. Until this winter when I sleep longer. So long it hasn't been unknown for me not to get out of bed until as late as 8 o'clock or even 8.30. Plus I tend to be tired all the time. When a couple of years ago I jokingly suggested to my doctor that I might be SAD (as in Seasonal Affective Disorder), rather than laugh at me, she agreed. This morning I got up at 6.30, performed the usual routines (sort out the varying needs of nine cats), breakfast, check email and news online, have a bath. Then I thought sod it and went back to bed for an hour.

I woke up at half nine and rushed out to drive halfway across the city to feed the cats I'm looking after and clean their cat litter. After that it was walk the dog. Not my dog. My dog is distinguished by the fact that it doesn't exist. No, every time my brother and sister in law go away for the day, I walk their dog, an elderly female Cavalier King Charles spaniel which doesn't like me. She a rescued dog and the general opinion is that I remind of someone she knew when she was as a breeding machine by some scumbag of a dog breeder. I wouldn't say all dog breeders are scumbags, but ... I think I've said enough on that subject.

Then at noon I met a family who were interested in adopting a cat. Unfortunately this proved to be a misunderstand in that they were really looking for a kitten or a very young adult cat. All ours are at least a year old. Still, nice people.

Back home and I'd just finished my lunch when I got another call from someone who'd read my blog (see, it's not just you) and was very interested in Hector and Harriet. I arranged to meet them at two o'clock and they duly turned up promptly at 2.30, seconds before I was going to leave. (Maybe they thought I lived there rather than having to drive halfway across the city.) Glad I did, though. Father and 18 year old student daughter who came over as real animal lovers and experienced with cats -their old one had only recently died. Once they got their hands on the two cats there was no question they'd taken them. All our cats are friendly but H & H are just friendly. Susan had called round the previous day and she'd commented on how affectionate they were. The girl was so delighted she even gave me a hug and that doesn't happen to me very often. Good home for two lovely cats. Result.

On the way back I called in at the home of the five cats (see above). Then back home to walk the dog. Just after tea, a social worker rang from the hospital. The cats' owner was getting agitated about the state and safety of her cats. I made sure the social worker knew that they were in safe hands.

Bye bye Harriet and Hector.

Friday, 4 January 2013


Let me explain something I should have explained when I first started this blog. I may be stating the obvious but sometimes the obvious needs to be explained.

Cat rescuing is a catch-all term to describe a variety of activities. It doesn't just mean rescuing stray or abandoned cats but instead covers a multitude of activities which include cat welfare. There are two things I did this morning (and it's not 11.00am yet) which illustrate this.

For the last six days I've been visiting a house twice a day to feed five cats and deal with their soiled cat litter. The owner had to go into hospital for up to two weeks (hopefully no longer) and Social Services contacted me to see if Animal Krackers would do it which we (that is me) would. Now four of the cats are very frightened of strangers -indeed I've yet to even see one of them- but the fifth, a large long haired black and white moggy of indeterminate age, is friendly. He also has extremely densely matted fur on his belly and around his anus so I booked him in at the vets where he was due to be taken this morning. However, placid and friendly as he normally is, he vehemently objected to being put in a cat carrier which he literally ruined and (figuratively -there was some blood- shredded my right hand in the process). I will try again when I've got my hands on a large and secure carrier.

Prior to this I had to go and collect a cat for the day while its owner moved house. The owner, who is differently mentally abled but can live on her own in the community with only a minimum of support, got the cat from us a few years ago and looks after her well. The cat has a placid nature which helps. Anyway, I picked the cat up and set off to collect the cat from the previous paragraph and within less than a minute placid cat had soiled the carrier and herself. When I finally got her to my house I did a preliminary clean but Susan and I ended up putting her in the bath and thoroughly washing her fur. It wasn't easy and it wasn't fun. She's now locked in my bedroom and lying on a couple of towels on top of my bed. All being well I'll be taking her to her new home about mid-afternoon.

Much as I love being involved in cat rescuing and find it very personally rewarding and, to be honest, my life would be rather dull without it, there are times when it can be quite unpleasant and often bloodily painful as several healing scabs and the odd permanent scars on my hands, legs and stomach testify.

Cat rescuing aint a job for wimps.

Post Script

The cat spent a few hours on my bed, not even moving when I lay down next to her for a nap. However, a couple of minutes into the trip to her new home, she crapped once again in the carrier.

Some days you just can't win.

Thursday, 3 January 2013


A few weeks ago I mentioned that Nisha of Sky had done a video piece about our new re-homing centre which would appear on the Sky News website. She was supposed to let us know when it was up but she forgot and I only heard about it ten minutes ago when I got a call about something else and the person mentioned he'd seen it.

Well, now I have and you can too at-

Be warned though, I'm in it.

Tuesday, 1 January 2013


And a Happy New Year to you.

We re-homed a cat, our second to date, on New Year's Eve. I got a call from a guy I used to work with who wanted a cat, the family pet having just died recently aged 18. Within half an hour were all there: me, him, and his two daughters aged 11 & 14. I showed them all the cats and it came down to a choice between Ginger, a talkative young tom, and Tabitha a long-haired grey tabby. One daughter wanted one, the other the other.

And the lucky cat getting a great new home where she'll be loved to pieces was-

-Tabitha, the only cat I don't seem to have a photo of.

so instead, here are two sisters, about 8 months old, currently with Carole. Both are very loving and need to be homed together. They're really quite special.
 The stitches were taken out yesterday and she's made a full recovery.