Friday, 25 July 2014


The day started slowly. I woke at five having slept all the way through the night, blissfully uninterrupted by the needs of my bladder until then. That done, back to bed and went back to sleep again, dragging myself up at six thirty and getting to the baths by seven forty. Some swimming sessions are better than others. Last week I made all five weekday sessions, often doing more than the minimum distance I'd set myself of twenty lengths something I never succeeded in doing this week. Getting home and being unable to summon up enough energy to do anything significant, I went back to bed and flaked out for a couple of hours only to be woken by the phone ringing. 

A lady wanted to come and see the cats so I arranged a meet at Ferry Farm. This was promising and I suddenly felt energised. I'd homed one cat last night. Could this be two in less than twenty-four hours?

The cat I'd re-homed last night came as a surprise. A lady had rang yesterday lunchtime and I asked if I could bring a cat to her house about teatime. In between I had to take Wendy (not the vet) and her cat to the PDSA, pick up Arya (otherwise known as Arya the cat I'm not keeping) from Wendy (the vet), drop Wendy (not the vet) back home, and head off to Morrisons at Doxford Park to empty the food bin. All of which I did. I decided to try Caitlyn, the long haired temperamental ginger cat I'd had for a couple of weeks. Caitlyn doesn't like other cats and spends most of her time behind my fridge. She's not very keen on being picked up either, though she does like being stroked. I emphasised on the phone not to be embarrassed if the lady didn't take to the cat. It was a long shot anyway.

I duly turned up at the agreed time, not far away. As I entered the living room, I said they shouldn't be surprised if Caitlyn bolted for cover. There were two other people there, the lady's brother and late teenage daughter. I opened the carrier lid, Caitlyn popped out and proceeded to sedately wander round the room, tail erect, pausing for people to stroke her. That was it. Sold. I went home alone. The unlikely ones are always the most satisfying.

Off to Ferry Farm to meet the new lady interested in a cat. Her and her male companion turned up just when I was starting to think about heading home -they'd come on the Metro. I showed them all the cats, thinking it narrowed down to three but I was wrong it was just two and even then one was more likely than the other. The cat she chose was Rasputin, the badly named sweet-natured two year old torty. We did the paperwork and she's coming to collect the cat in the morning.

I was back there another couple of hours later to meet the new owner of Shappi, Miranda, and Sox. They'd been picked a couple of weeks ago but the young woman and her partner wanted to wait until the start of their holidays so they could spend a lot of time with their new cats.

So, five cats re-homed in 24 hours, though it's really only two. Nothing makes me happier than finding a home for a cat or a kitten.

As things stand now the only cats available for adoption in my house are Bob and Bo Fluffy (I've changed their names again) who'll be going to Ferry Farm after their second flu jab in ten days, three kittens, and Arya the cat I'm not keeping no matter how often she jumps on my knee and rubs against my face.
You're going, cat, sooner or later you're going and don't think you aren't.

*I didn't (think of a title later).

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