Wednesday, 6 November 2013


Got back from the vets after taking a cat from the re-homing centre to be checked and got a call from Carole about a disabled lady who couldn't cope with a stray young cat she'd taken in. I rang her and arranged to call and check out the cat. By a coincidence I'd been booked to collect a load of vinyl albums from a house only a couple of streets away from the lady with the cat.

As soon as I got there I could see that the situation was genuine. The cat was about 6 months old, maybe a little less, male and quiet. Curled up on a settee, he didn't protest when I picked him up and stroked him. Okay, another one for the conservatory, at least at first.

I had to call in at the shop to drop off the heavy boxful of albums and took the opportunity to show the kitten-cat around. Unusually for me I managed to ingratiate myself with a new volunteer by telling her she didn't look old enough to have a four year old son. When she told how old she was I just laughed said that anyone under 40 looks like a bairn to me. The truth is that I'm just crap at guessing people's ages. When I first met Susan I couldn't tell whether she was 35 or 45 (actually 40, same age as me).

I took the cat home and popped him in the conservatory with Growler. Then Susan called round for the van, told me the house was mess. It was. And told me to get the kitten-cat out of solitary. I did and after a while he disappeared behind the freezer where he currently (20.35) remains. I'm taking him to the vets tomorrow for his first flu jab and and to be checked out.

Okay, here he is.

As for his brief room-mate, Growler aka Tut, I can stroke him for much longer than when he first arrived before he attacks. I think he likes me as as he comes to me when I enter the conservatory and purrs when I stroke him. All the same, I wasn't looking forward to getting him in a cat carrier for his trip to the vets.

Luckily, and wearing gloves, I took him by surprise and he was in before he knew it so off to the vets he went. As for what he'd be like when put on the examination table, the question was simply how much of a bloodbath it would be.

Instead he behaved like an angel. Not a growl, not swipe with his claws, not a squirm. He patiently allowed Wendy to do anything he wanted to him, including give him a flu jab.

To finish, some photos of Frankie, Tilly, and Tod cuddling up together.

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