Sunday, 12 October 2014


I'd been booked to go to Ferry Farm on Saturday morning at eleven to induct a couple of new cat cuddlers -a mother and adult daughter. The day before I got a call from a gentleman who was interested in adopting a cat and he'd been given our details by a friend who'd got one from us earlier this year and who would be bringing him up. I suggested that he come at eleven as that would kill two birds with one stone and save me a trip and also petrol (which I claim from AK). Great.

And all went well. He picked a nice young girl about a year old, though I tried to get him to take Aoife who is a nice quiet 5 year old but to no avail. The new cuddlers were both very nice and seemed to enjoy themselves so hopefully they'll be back. 

And while I was dealing with all this I got a call from a lady who lives in South Shields. She'd rung me earlier in the week but called again as she was really desperate. Always a sucker for a sob story plus an assurance that the cat was really really really friendly, I reluctantly agreed. I did warn her that if the cat wasn't friendly I wouldn't take it. People have tried  and (very rarely) succeeded to lumber us with an unrehomeable cat and I was determined not to get conned again. I finished sorting out business and also learned that Sansa, a rather diffident cat when I was fostering her, had blossomed into a lovely cuddle and lap-loving girl.

I typed the post code into my car's satnav and put my trust in it and it did indeed get me there safely, to a nice small modern estate which, like Moorside, is very safe for cats. The story was that her youngest son had developed a severe allergy to the cat but matters were further complicated by the fact that she'd split up with her partner and the house had to sold and she and her two sons were moving into council accommodation which is all very traumatic. 

Her description of the cat proved to be accurate. I've had her for just over 24 hours and she is as friendly as she is pretty. I'm keeping her in the cat cage until Tuesday when Amy Farrah Fowler and Marcy May are going for their second flu jabs and then on to Ferry Farm where they'll share a pen together.

Needless to say I forgot the name of the cat and didn't think to ask its previous owner when she woke me from a nap an hour ago to ask how the cat was doing. For the time being I'm calling her Rizzoli (though she's more like Isles) and if you don't know where that name came from you're missing one of the best American buddy-buddy crime TV shows.

On another matter entirely, Joanna, Animal Krackers' secretary has re-homed five kittens this weekend.


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