Everything below, up to a point which will be obvious, was written late yesterday afternoon and I stopped writing at 6.15 in order to get ready to go to the pub. Ignore the 'feel free to skip it'.)
This is just an excuse to show off photos of my cats. Feel free to skip it; it's not really important. Unless, of course, you like seeing photos of cats and kittens.
I'll start with Fifi who is the longest resident here -all of five months or thereabouts. As more cats arrived she retreated to the spare (an unfair description of the treasured place where I keep all my books, graphic novels, and DVDs) room. Recently, however, she's been venturing further afield and now spends much of her time in the kitchen, moving around from window to chairs to table, to kitchen benches. She still bolts when any human other than myself appears. I think, from the previous person who took her in, she's a one-person at a time cat. Here she is, having made a mess of the kitchen.
(Ahem. Miss Fifi would like it known that she is not responsible for the mess the kitchen is in. Indeed it is quite true to say that the food-giver has cropped the photograph so you don't realise quite what a mess the kitchen really is. Miss Fifi wishes to add that this is not a complaint as it makes the environment more interesting.)
Aelfric has been, since the moment he arrived, completely adorable. Shy at first and although still wary of strangers albeit not as much as Fifi, he's now a sociable, friendly affectionate cat who cuddles up to me and is quite happy in the company of other cats and kittens. I'm only really doing this post to show off the photograph of him with one of the kittens. A moment earlier they'd been curled up asleep but alas me moving around woke them. It's still cute though.
(His Grace The Abbot Aelfric says, "Talk about faint praise. I'm undoubtedly the most beautiful handsome cat in the world and this bozo is lucky to have me."
Aoife of course came with three kittens and a month later had two of her own (one of them is above). I had her spayed yesterday -from which she quickly recovered- so there won't be any more. She's placid and quietly friendly. When she wants affection, she'll reach out with a paw and touch me to get my attention. Unfortunately she does this with her claws out and if I'm asleep it'll be my face she touches. Although generally indifferent to the other cats as long as they don't get too close, she now spends much time in my bedroom which is Tiger's main residence and often frequented by Aelfric. Aoife is also very sociable with other people.
(Move the camera, buster, or I take your face off.)
And then there's Tiger. He lost a lot of weight in his first week with me which was only properly revealed after I'd had him shorn because of tats in his long fur (see previous posts). He now put on quite a bit and is even heavier than Aelfric. He's possibly even more friendly with people than Aoife and loves having a fuss made of him. He loves cuddling up to me on the bed, resting his head on an arm, purring loudly as I stroke him. He's also very vocal which might be cute in other cats but not with his strangulated voice. Still, he's very loveable.
(Tiger objects to this description of his mellifluous voice and would like to state in his defence, "Arrgh-huh, rachk grllll grah-uh-hkkk. Mrrrr-a-a-a!)
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Ten minutes later and ten minutes before I was due to go for the bus I received an email from a young woman who'd read my blog and believed that Tiger, yes Tiger, was her cat who had been lost for six months.
I quickly replied asking her where she lived and then went for the bus.
Nearly three hours, a half pint of real ale, a glass of pinot grigiot which came with the meal (pork ribs and chips) and three quarters of a bottle of Hardy's shiraz (the house wine), later I rolled into the house and checked my email.
She lived in the same area where Tiger had been found. There followed a quick exchange of details and it looked as if Tiger was her cat. In the morning, when less affected by alcohol, I noted some discrepancies I'd missed. Chief among them being that he hadn't been neutered when he went missing and neither I nor the lady who'd taken him and had had it done.
Anyway, she and a friend (sister?) arrived about an hour ago. She showed me some photos which did resemble Tiger but they weren't as good as mine in terms of a sharp picture. Nevertheless, there were so many similarities that were impossible to dismiss. She was 99% certain Tiger was her Tabby. We agreed that she'd take him home but if it became obvious by his behaviour he wasn't Tabby she'd bring him back.
I'm not happy at all that he's gone but I am satisfied that he's gone back to a good loving home. Ian's the name, homing lost cats is my game. (Don't worry, I'm cringing at that as much as you are.)
Assuming he doesn't come back I have now a vacancy for another cat and there's a very friendly five month old grey and white kitten-cat called Moustache in my conservatory.
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Normal service, albeit more abbreviated than I intended it to be, will now be resumed.
After dosing them daily for a week (with the many scratches and bites to prove it) and worming them, the kittens bowels have mostly (mostly but not entirely by any means) firmed up and they mostly (mostly but not entirely by any means) use the litter trays rather than messing on the floor but I'm still not convinced that that they're completely better so I can't re-home them until I am and Moustache has to stay in the conservatory even though he's frantic to get out.
Here are some new photos.
These two, the youngest, are just starting to lose their kitten tummies.
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Goodbye, Tiger.
