Saturday, 1 November 2014


Oh, it has been. Okay. Well I've been busy. And putting stuff on Facebook rather than blogging. So this is a hotchpotch of original material, Facebook stuff, and expanded/re-written Facebook stuff.

This cat was found on Rotherham Road, Red House last Saturday. She's between 3 and 4 years old, has white paws, is very friendly, and has a hernia (lump). Since then I've had her operated on yesterday to remove it and she seems fine. She's a nice friendly little thing but then most of them are. I've called her Tina.

Burnside the big tough old ginger monster has been re-homed on a long-term foster basis which, after a week, seems to be going very well. He's happy, his new owner's happy. All is well.

I am absolutely desperate to home Dora the kitten. Not because she's horrible, precisely the opposite. She's most loveable affectionate kitten I've ever had and I want rid of her before I give in and keep her.

My cats have a favourite song. Here it is. "Food, glorious food! Food, glorious food! Food, glorious food!" They don't know any other words, these are the only ones that matter to them. Apart from the food I give them they have also taken the opportunity to deprive me of the remaining four custard doughnuts in a bag on the kitchen bench -actually found a cat eating one of them- and the bag containing a loaf of sliced white bread was been ripped open and the contents partially devoured. Last night I did a stir fry of pork mince and onion  with noodles. There was too much for one meal so I left about a third of it in the saucepan, placed a plate and a glass dish on the top and went to eat the rest. While I was doing that, the cats removed the glass dish and plate and devoured the portion I was going to have for today's lunch.

Winston the Rag Doll has been re-homed but not in the way I expected. The previous owner's cousin came back from holiday not previously knowing what had been going on and asked to have him. As she had the owner's approval we couldn't refuse. So there you go.

If you're religious, say a prayer, if you're superstitious cross your fingers, if you're neither hold your breath, cat cuddlers and anyone else, but long-stay at our re-homing centre preceded by 9 months in my house, five year old all-black Aoife may have found a home with a wheelchair-bound lady. That was two days ago and I haven't heard anything yet so I'm cautiously optimistic.

And then there are times when I can get (insert a coarse emphatic adjective of your choice here) irritated with people.Earlier in the week I got a call from an elderly lady about a female kitten at risk. It had just appeared in her street so I went round only to find it had gone. I made the arrangement that if she could get it in her kitchen she'd call me. A couple of days later I got a call from a guy had to find a home for two ten week old kittens his cat had given birth to but, when I asked for his address, couldn't make out what he said so asked him to spell it out. He was on the bus he said and would call me later. Except he didn't.

Two days after that the lady got on the phone to say she had the cat in her kitchen. I went round, took one look at it and said: that's not a kitten! I still took it because she was elderly and stressed out, though I had a job getting it in the carrier -a new small one I'd just bought to use for kittens and small cats. I'd barely got home when the phone rang and it was guy from a couple of days ago who didn't realise he'd spoken to me before. Although I now couldn't take his kittens, I tried to help him as best I could by offering a couple of suggestions. How much he took in I don't know because it was obvious he was thick as a brick. He even rang me twice later that same afternoon, neither time realising...

As for the cat, I took it to the vets for a checkup a couple of hours later when I went round to pick up Tina (who I'd dropped off that morning) after her hernia op. The six month old female kitten turned out to be a grey intact male aged 18 months-2 years who would have to spend the next three weeks in an unsuitably small cage in my bedroom. He's a fluffy grey with white bits and after asked for suitable names from the vet staff -no I'm not going to call him Smokey just because he's grey- came up with Cirrus after the wispy grey-white cloud formation. He's since started to settle down and I'm beginning to get good feelings about him. After an initial defensive/aggressive reaction towardsw the other cats he seems to have stopped so I may be able to let him out. Maybe after he's been neutered on Tuesday.

I may have mentioned in an earlier post that my ex Sue Hardy, joint founder and director of Animal Krackers, and who I consider the engine that keeps our charity running smoothly, has had a knee replacement. It may not sound much but it's considered to be ten times worse than a hip replacement. Susan also has a problem in that pain killers upset her stomach so she's having a pretty hard time, even worse than it should normally be. I've been going round two to three times a day to feed her cats, get her breakfast, and do anything else she wants. She's also getting support from other people, particularly her brother and sister in law. The hospital are keeping an eye on her, Age Concern has provided some support ,and a nurse calls round. I'm going to print a photo which she'll hate but it's intended as a tribute to her in my own oddball (her description of me) way.

Animal Krackers Statistics of Cats & Kittens Re-homed.
October: 26
Yearly total to date: 138.
It's too early to thank everyone but you are all in my thoughts.

And once the current five monsters I'm fostering have gone then I'm not fostering any more. Seven is enough, more than enough, in my modest house. I know, I know, I've said that before.

But this time I mean it.

Said that before too.

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