JESS: HERE ON THURSDAY, GONE BY SUNDAY

My third trip to Peterlee in a week, this time in the charity's van. I had to use it because my car, the Toyota Yaris I only got a few months ago, was being repaired following a scrape (yes: my fault) and I couldn't have animals in the courtesy car. So: no satnav. So: I got lost. More than once. My fault. Can't read a map as well as I used to do.

The cat was owned by a couple of genuine animal lovers who were moving but could only have one cat in their rented accomodation. The one they were taking sat on my shoulder while I was talking to the couple.

Jess, I was assured, was up to date with all its vaccinations though when I contacted their vets they could find no record of anyone at the address registered. As I dimwittedly didn't get their surname, I can only blame myself as the cat may have been registered at a different address. 

Next morning I took her to Kings Road Vets as usual where Wendy checked her over and, after pronouncing her flea-free, gave her the first flu shot. Back home I added her to the needing homes web page. Although a bit nervous of the other cats, Jess seemed friendly -always happy to be stroked- and vocal -letting me know when she wanted to be stroked. Only a few hours after putting her on the list I received a show of interest and on Sunday (this) morning a nice young couple (ironically from near Peterlee) came and took her to her new home.

If only it was always that easy.

For one last time, here's Jess.

And now meet Amy Farrah Fowler.

 

But you can call her Amy.

And at the risk of spoiling a joke, the full name is that of a character in the popular geek sitcom The Big Bang Theory.

Amy is a stray from Easington Lane. A young woman had been feeding her for a while and would have taken her in but her own cat kept attacking her. When I arrived (after knocking on nearly every door in the street because I'd forgotten the note with the house number, and previously getting lost on the way there) Amy was doing the best she could to hide behind the toilet. I spoke gently to her and picked her up. She didn't really struggle or even make a sound and went easily into the cat carrier.

She's been in the cage in my bedroom for about five hours now and hasn't used the litter tray or eaten anything, but that's not unusual for a newly arrived cat. Jess was the same. I'll get her to the vets as soon as possible, hopefully tomorrow, to be checked over and given her first flu jab. Initial impressions are promising: the lack of aggression, the soft smooth coat, the placid acceptance at being picked up and stroked. Hopefully I'll be able to let her loose with the others, maybe when Ted has gone to Ferry Farm on Tuesday.

Here's one last photo of her. She's bonnier than in the photo.

THERE AND BACK AGAIN; AND THERE AND BACK AGAIN

I don't make the best decisions when just woken up from a nap. Case in point: yesterday. Phone rings waking me up. I'm asked a question and I reply-

"Yes, I will take the stray cat and her four kittens you found a couple of days ago in the shed."

Even though I haven't anywhere to put them except temporarily in the cage in my bedroom. If I'd told them to ring back an hour later I might not have agreed. Then again...

The shed was locked so I had to wait until six before going there as the woman's partner was out at work. And it wasn't round the corner either but at Peterlee a sprawling new town ten miles down the busy A19. I tapped the post code into my satnav and set off. On the plus side the post-work traffic rush was mostly over. On the minus side, there was a mist thick enough for me to keep even more of a distance than I normally would between me and the car in front. No matter, I managed to keep to a steady 60mph on the A19 and the place was easy to find once I got off it.

The shed itself was built mainly to keep the rain off the bike and stop it being nicked and was partially open on one side which was how the cat the got in. Only she wasn't there being off foraging for something for herself to eat. The kittens, however, were. I checked them all out and, apart from fleas, seemed healthy enough and around 4-5 weeks old. There were also five of them, not four. They weren't feral and put up with me holding and stroking them with little more than the odd hiss. So their mother was obviously someone's pet and they'd been handled regularly by at least one person which meant that they and their mother were either tossed out by the owner or, for some reason, the mother cat decided she didn't want to keep them where they were. The fact that she hadn't been spayed meant to me that owner wasn't a responsible person. Or just plain stupid.

As the mother could be away for hours, I decided to take the kittens home. They were old enough that, if hungry enough, they would eat solid food and if not I could borrow Maisie from the conservatory and put her in with them as she'd almost certainly nurse them.

By the time I set off home, the mist had disappeared though along with a fair bit daylight and the traffic was lighter so I managed a steady 70mph for most of the trip home. I called in Asda for kitten food and cat milk and had just got back in the car when the phone rang. The mother was back and they'd got her in their kitchen.

I got the kittens settled in the cage and, with a sigh as I could have done without a second ten mile trip, headed back to Peterlee. The mother was fine, young as I'd expected, and friendly albeit not happy when I put her in the carrier. Still it wasn't long before I reunited her with her kittens. By this time I was knackered and had called in at the local fish and chip shop where I had to settle for sausage and chips as there wasn't any fish ready and I was too tired to cook anything. Eventually I got on to the computer and emailed Joanna our secretary to tell her what I'd been doing.

A little later she replied to say that Andrea, having moved a cat today to our re-homing centre, would be able to take them which suited me just fine as they'd be going to somewhere with more space than my small cage. And that's what happened just a few minutes later.

And that's, apart from the obligatory photos below, the end of the story.