Thursday, 10 October 2013


Yes, that is a bit cryptic but once you read this story it will make sense.

I'm starting this just after four on Thursday afternoon but it all starts on Tuesday morning when I got a phone call asking me if I'd forgotten about the pregnant kitten I'd agreed to take to the vets last week.

My reaction to that was a succinct: Eh?

Basically I had no idea what the caller was talking about. However, my memory being notably poor I assumed that it was something I'd agreed to but forgotten about. I took the caller's details and rang King's Road Practice vets who could fit me in in about an hour.

Half an hour later I called at the lady's house in Pallion which, fortuitously, was on the way (or one of the ways) to the vets. She and her husband owned three lovely and friendly Persians but they (the cats) didn't like this stray young cat/kitten they'd been feeding for a month or so otherwise they'd have taken it in. She got it in the house and it was definitely pregnant and about a year old I thought. She said six months. She was right. I wasn't. So into the cat carrier and off to the vets.

I saw Louise who checked it out, confirming the age -it's adult teeth had just grown through- and that it was pregnant but not near term so she could spay her. Asked for a name, I thought a moment and came up with Ellie which Louise liked. As I've said in a previous post I'm not good at naming cats and still haven't named the youngest kitten. I also had her given her first cat flu jab.

Later that afternoon I brought her home and put her in a cage in the conservatory where the growling cat is staying. Ellie didn't like the cage and went berserk so I let her out into the conservatory and left them to it. The growling cat growled at her when she came close but didn't go for her and eventually she settled down.

Next morning I didn't get up until 7.15 which is the time I normally go swimming so it knocked that on the head. After the usual round of cleaning cat litter and feeding the other cats, I checked on Ellie and noticed blood on a cushion. I thought it might just be leaking from her anus (not unusual but nothing to worry about in newly spayed females). It wasn't. She'd ripped her stitches open and I could see her insides which fortunately hadn't become outsides. There was also more blood on the floor. I put her in a cat carrier so as to minimise her movements and kept busy until 8.30 when I set off with her back to the vets.

While there the internal stitches were replaced, external stitches added for extra security and a collar firmly fitted into place. The collar stays until next Friday when the stitches will be removed. She doesn't like it but it doesn't stop her eating or drinking so tough luck little kitten-cat.

I should also add that now she's calmed down she's proving to be the most adorable little cat who loves sitting or sprawling in my lap and is very very lovable. I will put her up for adoption after he second flu jab but, as she likes other cats, I'll keep her here rather than sending her to the re-homing centre.

I still haven't explained the title, have I? All will be revealed after the photos.

Early Tuesday evening after I'd got Ellie back from the vets the first time, I got a call from Phil who apologised to me for reason I at first didn't understand but then became clear. Some Phil, who normally just deals with dogs, had been put in touch with this lady and agreed to have the kitten-cat, who became Ellie, taken to a vet he regularly uses but had forgotten about. About three or four days later, the lady then phoned Animal Krackers shop where I assumed she asked who dealt with the cats and was given my number and assumed when she spoke to me that I was Phil. Me, doubting my own memory, assumed I had made that promise and acted accordingly. Got to admit that it is a relief that my memory isn't that bad.

So Ellie is the little cat that shouldn't have ended up in my house but did.

And luckily for her in that had plans gone as they were supposed to she would at best have ended up in the lady's kitchen overnight or possibly outside. As it was, she ended up with me who was best placed to look after her and quickly do what needed to be done.

And now all is explained.

Growler: an update.

I seem to have settled on Growler as the name for the cat that Susan dumped on me last week. As that's what he does.

But I'm slowly thawing towards him (warming would be an exaggeration) as I get to know him. I don't think he's an aggressive cat, just a very frightened one. He warns off me and other cats but actually only attacks if you don't back off. As he becomes less frightened his initial reaction is to miaow at me rather growl -that comes next.

So, baby steps. Baby steps.

Post Script.

If you look at the labels below, you'll find the phrase 'perfect pussy'. I confess that's a lure and a joke on a certain type of person who isn't exactly looking for the ideal cat. 


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