It Isn't Easy Being Green

My second son decided to turn forty on Friday. This necessitated his lovely partner organising a party and this they decided to do in the fields belonging to her mother who is also one of my oldest friends. This was entitled the Summer of Love tent festival, 1969 revisited. Originally second daughter was attending for me but as she had just started a new position within the BBC she was exhausted and in the end I agreed to take her place. To those that are not au fait, I have been undergoing a series of tests stretching back some eight months now and the latest is an attempt to resolve a pain in my side, which has unfortunately or perhaps fortunately, not shown up on a gallstone scan. In the absence of any other sacrifices I was therefore despatched to Norfolk pain et al. Number one son and his partner took me. It was a good thing that I was not being put up in a tent as there would have been no room in the car as they had all the creature comforts that they could muster with them.

We arrived after six hours as they wanted to stop and have a proper pub meal and then a trip around Asda to buy supplies. I was desperately in need of a gin and tonic by this time as they had started the bickering common to people travelling and not map reading properly. Several G & Ts later I inspected my sleeping arrangements (the old camper van next to the new hay barn) The original barn is still there but the new one is almost three times the size and they have permission to convert it into a house. The main field leading up to the home wood was the camping area and on the level section they had laid out bales for a quad bike circuit. A badminton net was also set up and various other entertainments were available to tire out children. It did start on to rain around 10pm but at this point we were retiring to the hay barn for a karaoke session. They have lots of electrical points and two televisions were set up in the barn for karaoke and games. My friend dragged me off for a much appreciated coffee, to the main farm house, and I actually went to bed without joining in with the singing. This was probably a good thing as I lost my voice many years back and three blind mice is about the extent of my present repertoire.

I made a trip to the porta loo in the night minus a torch and walked into a giant puddle followed by stinging nettles. I woke twice more and read some of my book and watched the dawn come up which is always better out of town. I saw one of the planets close to the Eastern horizon and also a satellite passing over. (they move slower than aeroplanes, or rather they appear to in relation to their distance from the earth) Then I fell into a deep sleep and everyone else got up. They had a barbequed breakfast back on the hill, which was very good and I greatly enjoyed the forbidden fruits of fried bacon, and when the tents were dry (it poured all night) they started to break up camp. At this point and without provocation, I was stung by a wasp. I took a large dose of piriton and sat very still until I was certain I would not react any further but the area is horribly swollen and I have continued with some more piriton in an attempt to curtail its spread. I have also used marigold leaves as my Krishna friend in New Zealand swears by them. I am now green and swollen but I itch less!

Needless to say coming back also took time as we had to stop for yet another meal. To add to this, Second daughter, in her infinite wisdom had saved me a kebab from Saturday with rice and then cooked me a huge chicken dinner. How I am supposed to reduce cholesterol and lose weight whilst amongst certain sections of my family I dread to think. I may go on a prolonged visit to Youngest daughter as at least she is a student and not inclined to feed me more than beans. (Actually she is a great cook but a vegetarian so there are fewer calories!)

Yesterday I saw the physiotherapist for the first time and what a beautiful young man he was. I have some fun exercises to do ha ha and I am due back in September. The next consultation regarding the pain in my side is on the thirteenth. The odd thing is that it did not affect me in Norfolk. Perhaps the stones have passed, if it was that or maybe I do have pulled muscles of some description in that area.

Whilst I was away, my friend John rang again and invited us to a dinner party later in the month so I will get to visit the garden of wondrous delights yet again. This is fast becoming a summer of strange experiences and too much food. Meanwhile the remaining kits are still marauding and have discovered the delights of knocking plants over whilst ensuring ornaments are destroyed. Two are due off in a week’s time Two are still available. (Note the faint pleading tone in that last statement.)

Cat has Trophies

Just when I thought it could not get any worse the kitten invasion spread to the living room. This occurred largely through the machinations of Youngest daughter and her affianced, who trapped the critters in an attempt to impose order on their chaos. The results were howling in various keys that continued into the small hours. They hid in every recess available and in a major breakout two fled for the upstairs. Youngest daughter throwing herself in the path of the main Tuxedo culprit suffered various scratches and abrasions. The howling continued as Tuxedo two missed his sibling and eventually for the sake of those needing sleep he too was released into the care of his mother.

Angel meanwhile had visited the veterinary surgeon to be neutered. She was extremely well behaved during this ordeal and decided that the cat carrier was a suitable cave to hide out in from the unwanted attention of the kittens during the next two days.

We originally named the upstairs group ‘the renegade three’. They have established a bridge head in the storage room from which they can occasionally erupt to cause maximum destruction. However, yesterday the managed to earn themselves yet another nickname. I was awakened by the thundering of tiny paws and realised that they were racing up and down the stairs. As the main house cats are not particularly kitten friendly I went to investigate and make sure they were properly chaperoned. Middle daughter has a habit of leaving her clean washing on the stairs until her brain synapses click into carry it up mode. The kittens had used a pile of clean washing to form a sledge run and it lay in confusion about the lower hall. That is apart from socks. They had been selecting socks and carrying them upstairs as some form of trophy. I retrieved the aforementioned socks and replaced the washing in a neat pile. The guilty parties hung over the top of the banisters with angelic expressions on their faces. They are now known as the Tuxedo Mafia.

London Visit

On Saturday Eldest daughter arrived in London for an educational conference. Happy to have another chance of a grand day out Middle daughter and Eldest son, complete with his partner, were dragged into Paddington to meet up at the Hilton hotel. From this salubrious venue we made out way to a public house that had been researched for its good food and real ale content by Eldest son. It was a good choice apart from the fact that it has been some time since my body experienced a good British bitter and it chose to be upset by a pint of this substance. The meal that I had was amazingly good both for the money and the actual content. I chose a beef steak pie with seasonal vegetables and the pastry alone was a hymn to the powers of their cook.

Following this we caught a bus (this turned out to be a bad move) from the Paddington area along Oxford Street to the British Museum. It was an exceptionally hot day and two elderly passengers had to get off the bus and escape from the heat. I felt considerably faint and actually had to sit out the museum trip in the shade. The others visited the Syrian and the Egyptian exhibit and were thoroughly worn out by the time the museum closed. They are holding an exhibition of Aztec works later in the year and this is probably a good time for me to go back and visit again.

We intended to move on to Museum Street and visit Atlantis. This bookshop sells many different books and articles that relate to the esoteric. Some of their books being secondhand copies of works that are no longer available. We did arrive in time to see part of the stock and I unfortunately bought three books just prior to their closing which coincided with the first drops of storm rain. The need to seek shelter took us into another public house and there we sat and watched some tennis in between drinking a few glasses of white wine. By the time we emerged Forbidden Planet, which was also on our list to visit, had long since closed. There was nothing left to do but depart for China Town and visit the Malaysian restaurant that Eldest son’s partner had researched on the Internet.

Again we had a very good meal and making our way to Piccadilly and from their Paddington, everyone departed in their own directions. Middle daughter and myself made our way back to Southall Station and thence the bus stop where we encountered an old diving school friend who had been on the same train. It was such an eventful day and we were exhausted by the time we arrived home. The cats were not happy. Some were on the missing list. A dead rat had been left in the kitchen for our supper (this is a sure sign of their displeasure). During the night I was awoken by Demon who had caught yet another juvenile rat and was playing with it in the hallway. Middle daughter commented that they must have been sacrificing them at the alter of their particular cat gods to make sure we returned. The dead bodies were removed and all seemed to have settled when in the living room I came across a frog pretending to be a statue. It was very much alive and certainly not happy about being indoors. I transported it back to the garden now sodden with rain.
Later this afternoon we are off to a barbeque in celebration of a first communion. I dread to think what will await us on our return.

The Great Escape

On Wednesday evenings I attend the local Spiritualist Church Circle, where we meditate and attempt to contact those that have passed over. I arrive home from this at around ten o’clock and usually Middle daughter is asleep. Last night was just a little different as when I opened the door three of the house cats met me with pitiful expressions. (This is not entirely unusual as I frequently have one meet me with reproach for daring to leave them alone) This time however there was a general air of “It wasn’t my fault”.

I placed my bag down in the hallway and started to take out some bits and pieces when the door to youngest daughter’s room creaked open and the thunder of size six feet descended the stairs with Middle daughter attached. She had the look of someone who has been through a major crisis and I was suitably alarmed. “I can’t find one of them”, she said. (This is also not unusual so I was puzzled at her concern).

“I found Batman half way down the stairs,” she continued, “and Mini me was in my bedroom. Also two of the Tuxedo’s were in the bathroom with the Tabby.” It seems that Angel decided to have an evening out as well and in her absence the tribe decided to check out some more suitable territory. Kittens had streamed out of their room and over the entire upper floor. (Not to mention down the stairs into house cat territory). The problem with this adventure is that they are still only half tame and also extremely willful. Scare tactics had worked on Batman and to some extent on the others and she had lured those unresponsive to fear with their favourite toy, however one of the Tuxedo’s was missing.

As I originally had a much larger area to contain my many pastimes the small bedroom at this house is packed full of boxes and bags containing bits that seemed to be of great importance once upon a time. I have been thinking of sorting through these at some future point when there was less for me to do like watching CSI or chatting on the telephone, so to find one small and largely black kitten in amongst a badly constructed pyramid of belongings was not something that I could swear to being keen on. We checked the usual places that furry bodies liked to sleep in and found no extra kittens. I sat in the room until Angel returned in the hope of getting them to come out and play en masse but this too turned up no extra Tuxedo bodies. Eventually I crawled off to sleep.

This morning all the monsters were there bright eyed and bushy tailed. I begin to suspect that they are deliberately toying with us. I await the arrival of Youngest daughter next week with some satisfaction as she can throw her energy into catching them and I can retire to the forest for some gentle tree dismantling.

Kitty Update

It is such a delight to have kittens as the first thing I managed to do was pull an already stressed muscle in my back whilst dragging more food home for them. They have increased our food to cat ratio by double which is no mean feat for such small beings. After their initial aversion to all things human they are now condescending to allow us to entertain them with string and other wonders. This requires a human to kitten input of some two hours per human per day and is drastically curtailing other forms of pursuit such as house cleaning and garden clearance. The forest is now distinctly threatening the house.

I managed a trek into Southall and a brief visit to one of the church ladies but this did set me back the next day. On the plus side I collected some feathers that she had found for me, that I need to finish decorating a shamanic drum. I have already strung beads from this and I am hoping the final effect will rival the North American Indian variety of drum. Why am I doing this? I really cannot find a suitable answer to that apart from the fact that I bought the drum and it looks a little bare. In theory I can, once it is suitably enhanced either call good spirits to me or banish bad ones. This may save them from becoming entangled in the various dream catchers that hang in my room courtesy of various offspring. I have also been beading other things, as there are a limited number of occupations open to one whose back refuses to support more mundane tasks.

What should I be doing, apart from lion (ooops kitten) training? Well there are two proofs waiting for me to read them and make comments and also other pressing projects that should have been finalized some three months back. The year is beginning to slip away from me and tomorrow is the summer solstice. Unfortunately I am having difficulty staying in a focused frame of mind. To add to my general sense of anxiety and confusion, I also await the return of youngest daughter complete with fiancé and lots of washing together with a social calendar that is rapidly becoming swamped with soirees and barbeques. I am also waiting to hear from the organisor of the local carnivals to see if I will be annoying the local religious sycophants with my presence at the infamous Greenford carnival. A psychic’s fun is never over.

As an after thought, I have managed to determine the sex of batman, mostly as he got stuck upside down whilst trying to haul his now rotund body through a narrow gap. It is a giant leap forward.

Now We are Six: with apologies to A.A.Milne

Angel made a second attempt and this time the small monster ran between our neighbours garage and fence. It took ages for her to coax him out of there and once more she tried. This time he got as far as the house before scuttling off yet again. On the fourth attempt she managed to convince him to enter but then he saw Middle daughter’s feet and off he went. We were now pretending to be statues. Time ticked slowly by and yes he made it to the bottom of the stairs at which point Middle daughter raced to shut the door.

We then had to detach him from the bookcase but he was struggling wildly. She passed him to me and I made it up half the stairs before he sank fangs into my thumb. He flew through the air for a couple more steps and then bolted into the bathroom and took up residence under the bath (yet another story). We pushed Angel into the bathroom but she did not want to look for him and got quite assertive about this. We retired to have some refreshments.

Whilst we were discussing further moves Angel reappeared with another kitten. This one was more amenable and was raced up the stairs to join the others. We were pleased as now we felt the family was complete and safe but off Angel went again and yes there was yet another. Five kittens, most amazing from such a small cat, but they seemed fairly well fed and healthy. This kitten tried to dive behind the bookcase in the hallway. It was remarkably like Mimi apart from its facial adornment, which made it look like a miniature batman. Having extricated it from its chosen hiding place we wrapped it in (more smothered it in) a sweatshirt to carry it to its siblings.

Number three was still under the bath at this point and doing a very good impression of being part of the plumbing. It was getting late and we were exhausted so it was decided to cook dinner as obviously we now had five kittens relatively safe. I was just chopping onions when Angel appeared. She had another kitten. This one sighted the space under the sink cupboard and bolted into it. I put down my chef knife and dived after it. Luckily it was fairly docile on the upward trip and soon it had vanished into the mysterious depths of youngest daughter’s old room.

We were so tired by the time dinner was cooked that we could not remember how many kittens there were as much of the afternoon seemed to have extended into the Dream Time. It was no good trying to count them as they were firmly hidden behind musical instruments and computer parts.

I put in an emergency plea for a much larger dirt tray and one of my neighbours came racing round the next day full of kitten hopes. I told her she would be lucky but she tried and saw zero kittens. Somebody up there is eating all the food and using the dirt tray. The Tuxedo gentleman is out from under the bath and back with the brood. He is obviously the most hyperactive and they have formed a three aside football team as I can hear them thundering across the floor after the balls I thoughtfully (I am an idiot) provided. They are waking me up at least twice a night. (Only an idiot would choose to sleep in the room below a herd of kittens with big boots on). I have moved some things around to make sure they are fairly safe and Angel is doing her own thing whilst expecting me to baby-sit at a moments notice. I must add here that donations of food are always welcome.

Tuxedo Sunday

What a fun day we are having. Angel has reappeared with yet another kitten. This one is Tuxedo marked. However as she was not carrying it but encouraging it to walk the other cats gathered round to see the show and the kitten taking its first look at human beings ran screaming. This proved very diverting for the resident cat population however the two Gemini siblings started to argue with each other. I threatened them that the kittens were their birthday presents and that they would have to take care of them. Tequila moved off in disgust but Pukwadji tried to hide herself in the rose bushes. It is their first real view of kittens since they too were at that stage.

Bobo, who is slightly jealous of the attention Angel has received, was watching from one vantage point whilst Fatso (I hate all other black cats but me) was also in evidence. Demon perceiving that his presence might prove detrimental to his on going status in the house walked off to find more interesting things and Genghis remained at her post guarding my bed.

Meanwhile Middle daughter and myself became entangled in various bushes and brambles. The kitten was eventually picked up by Middle daughter but, as she was frightened of hurting it, the small monster jumped free and again speeded off. Angel is now attempting to lure it in once more. We wait with baited breathe for the next development.

Rhubarb and Custard

Due to the drop in temperature and rainy conditions, we moved the twins (and I am using this term as their relative sizes reminds me of the Hollywood film ‘Twins’.) into youngest daughter’s old bedroom. Angel was transported there to view them and plates of various baby foods were placed at their disposal. Angel then took herself off and vanished for some twelve hours.

On her return I fed her and then took her upstairs to see the babies. She called for them and the tiny one immediately came out from under the desk. The larger kitten that I have started to call Custard eventually crept out from under the wardrobe. Angel seemed pleased to see them and fed them herself, but was more interested in getting back out into the garden. We checked on the kittens at regular intervals and it was not until six hours later that Angel returned.

I had begun to grow worried as previously she was feeding every two hours. Once again she was carried up to see them and this time the larger one did not come out, but then she did not call. The tiny one joined her in a dish of cat food and egg yolk. They came close to eating the same amount as each other. Eventually, however kitty toddled off under the desk once again without a backwards glance and Angel strolled out as if this was what she had always intended. I said it was strange that she was not teaching them to hunt and Middle daughter stated that she thought Angel had shown them how to adopt human beings to hunt for them. I am inclined to agree with this.

To those that have been following this and also read the obituary for Mimi, I have to add that the tiny one is remarkably similar in colour and markings and most definitely similar with regard to food consumption

Angel: The Saga Continues

Angel continues to feed at regular two hourly intervals. However her body mass seems to be dropping radically so the lack of solid food for the kittens is beginning to show. Middle daughter took a trip through the forest, bearing a food gift, and could not find any sign of them but considering that despite her slender size she does sound like a rhino charging through the undergrowth, I was not surprised.

We have enjoyed two days without the builders next door but today they are back with some form of sawing machine and thoroughly enjoying themselves once more. It is therefore very unlikely that Angel will attempt to shift her offspring today. They are now at seven weeks and I suppose, considering how tiny she is, they must be fairly small kittens. The Magpies out back are raising a commotion, which usually indicates a cat is moving in their vicinity, so the potential is there. However, another draw back could be the state of my grassland, which is now rivaling a wheat field. I can just imagine small kittens trying to plough their way through the endless sea of green. Perhaps I should keep goats or sheep instead of cats.

I started this section over three days ago and then was distracted by other matters. A surprising turn around occurred yesterday. It was youngest daughter’s birthday and she being in Preston we were not expected to attend her birthday barbeque. It was around four in the afternoon when I saw Angel on her way to the back door with a large furry bundle in her mouth. I shouted to Middle daughter and she came rushing down the stairs. The bundle being unceremoniously dropped outside the door decided that I represented a major threat and slunk off to hide in an old Tea chest that is outside in the garden. (Don’t ask me to explain the significance of this ornament). Angel ate. We looked at the kitten. The kitten cowered. Middle daughter got some food into a bowl and offered this to the kitten. Angel finished eating and went off up the garden. We waited.

I decided to telephone youngest daughter and report on the arrival. As I was describing the kitten, some twenty odd minutes later, back she came and collided with Pukwadji who had taken herself off into the shrubbery. There was hissing and a bundle was dropped. I came off the telephone. Middle daughter rushed to pick the baby up. The second kitten was one third of the size of the first. It was an amazing bundle of fur with bat ears and not at all perturbed by its adventure. We placed it into the Tea chest and it threw itself at the food plate biting the plastic at first until it discovered the content was slightly more amenable. If prizes were given for food consumption that tiny creature would rival its ravenous mother.

Angel marched back into the kitchen and ate some more. We moved the tiny one into the rabbit hutch with the plate of food. I then turned the Tea chest up and dragged the larger rebel out and placed it with its sibling. Angel seemed to appreciate this act and off she went again. Twenty odd minutes passed during which time I telephoned youngest yet again. Finally Angel reappeared but this time there was no kitten. She gave a brief look at the others and went off again. Again time passed and she returned empty handed. From her belly it is obvious that she has been feeding at least four kittens. I do not like to weigh the alternatives but many a first litter fails through lack of sufficient milk and number two arrival was painfully thin.

Snow Angel

For all those that have queried the exact nature of the small and aggressive Angel, I have uploaded this photograph of her taken by Middle Daughter in the snow. It is quite reasonable camouflage. Those offspring of hers are six weeks old today and must be hungry as she has been in for food four times so far and the day is only half begun.

Angel: An Update

Her ladyship is gaining weight again and has still not brought her offspring home. I was considering renaming her Attila the Hun as she engages with the cat flap in the manner of a battering ram. This ensures that I fall out of bed and rush to the door. Today this occurred at ten minutes to three am. She repeated it at six as well but by that time middle daughter was up and cat feeding. There has been one successful entry made and we suspect that her small size is causing a problem with coming in, as the gap between the flap and the ground is rather large. I may install a step for her.

The building works continue unabated next door and the banging has been horrendous. They also have a masonry drill that was chewing its way through the brickwork yesterday. I was heard to mutter that if it broke through my wall I would charge them rent. The noise and general melee of male builders has upset some of the cats, Angel included, so we see little of them during the working hours. I suspect that this is the main reason for no kittens appearing but she is going to have to make a decision regarding them soon as at five weeks they should be weaning.

The house cats appear to have declared a state of truce with her for the present. I suspect that they are all exhausted from swearing at each other and the odd chase. There was a storm brewing yesterday and in the manner of cats they were rushing about play chasing. Angel was most stunned by this behaviour and probably will try and curtail such action in her own family. She has started purring like mad at the sight of me (Or is it the food sachets?) Hmmmm.

Mimi; An Obituary

The one plus of being in poor health is it gives you time to reflect on life, the universe and the nature of cheese. I have had a fun filled week with yet another hospital visit where after I fainted. This was mainly due to the fact that I have a flu style virus although I do not feel that it has porcine connotations. I managed to miss circle yet again and in place of that delight I was woken by some of the local youths who had witnessed a cat being run over and thoughtfully carried it to my door. The young man and his companions were very distressed and thinking about it in retrospect he must have been heavily blood stained. There was nothing that could have been done as from the injury I conjectured that the poor thing had died instantly. He was not one of my cats but a regular visitor. We had originally named him ‘Hissy Fit’ as he had a strange guttural hiss, the like of which I had never come across. From the manner in which he lunged at food we decided that someone was not feeding him.

I traced him to a Somalian family living some ten houses away and one of their neighbours told me that he often came into their house for a feed as well. He used our cat flap to the manner born and he did not harass my cat family unduly so I did not mind the odd plateful. He was about three years old and once I had established that his actual name was Mimi (A strange name for a rather butch un-neutered male) I proceeded to call him by this. He only responded if I said it in a way that mimicked Somalian speech, which reminded me of how French cats sound French when they meow and to some extent, explained his strange hiss.

Unfortunately the family moved about six weeks ago and he was left behind. A cat basket was visible through the windows of their house so the intent to take him seemed obvious. I can only surmise that they had to make a move and he was not around at that time. He came twice a day after this and also made an appearance at one of my neighbour’s houses that borders the main road where he met his end. She named him ‘Del Boy’ after the character in ‘Only Fools and Horses’ and this strangely suited him. I have not yet been able to tell her that he has passed away as my virus is keeping me housebound at the present. I did make a foray into the wood that I jokingly call a garden and buried him under the lilac bushes. He will be missed as he was such a character but we do suspect that Angel’s offspring may show similar genetic traits. Time will tell.

Angel Update

Angel has still not condescended to bring her children home for a meal. She is visiting three times a day for food and consuming most of it in the kitchen rather than al fresco as in the past. She was even tolerant of the door blowing shut as we have had strong winds of late. I know have offers on two more kittens as long as they are female. Hopefully the kittens will appreciate my efforts even if Angel does not.

The builders next door seem to have demolished most of the houses internal structure. I am really curious as to what they are planning to do with the remaining shell. Unfortunately for me they have white washed the windows. Sometimes life is very unfair.

The Angel Saga Continues

Over the weekend we have acquired some new neighbours. The father of the new owner, being a builder, has dedicated this next week to renovating the property and fixing fences. There is some muted banging going on at present, for which they have apologised in advance. An attempt was made on the bushes and parts of the path weeded during Saturday afternoon and I must admit that I did feel guilty as I could not clip my overhanging bushes as I would have normally done.

The cats meanwhile are about to face climbing fences rather than sauntering through the gaps left by the winter storms. My main concern is that Angel brings the kittens through before her passageway is impeded entirely. She has largely ignored us for two days apart from an evening feast but today she demanded breakfast and part of this was eaten in the kitchen. This is a major breakthrough as she has not had the courage to do this before and the other cats settled to eating with her despite her bad language.

Last Monday I was in hospital for some more interesting tests one of which being a somewhat lengthy procedure. I had undergone three quarters of this when they equipment decided to malfunction and as there were no other machines available they had to stop. I must admit I was not happy at this as it necessitates my attendance for another try tomorrow and the consumption today of some quite evil medicines. I will be in the house for the first part of the morning but then I will have to leave to reach my appointment in time so I am slightly worried that if Angel repeats today’s activities that she will feel I am dismissing her needs. The best scenario would be for her to transfer the kittens to the hutch during this evening, but I am not holding my breath as I can see she is a small cat of little sense.

From Here to Maternity

There are a surprisingly large number of cats in our road. Many households now have two or three each. The area is not as concreted over as many in the locale but there are a few gardens both front and rear that boast hard surfaces. Our back garden is a fairly chaotic place with trees and shrubs in abundance and this attracts not only the local birds but also foxes and cats, making it an ideal vantage point to see wildlife in an urban setting. The house cats are not particularly fond of sharing their territory, although the younger ones do sometimes play tag with each other and their chosen neighbours. One of our visitors is called Angel, mostly because she is so dainty and really beautiful. She is a long-haired white and black cat with some grey tones. The effect with large saucer eyes is quite haunting. We have never been able to find where she came from but judging from her initial size, which has not changed that greatly she was approximately three to four months when she first appeared in our garden. She naturally shuns much of humanity and even other cats but she truly loves being in touch with nature.

It was early summer when we first became aware of her and as the season lengthened and finally dissolved into autumn she was still there, hiding from the others and looking at a world, that should have seemed natural through slightly fearful glasses. We tried to tempt her in but she evaded our efforts.

Eventually winter took hold and I felt that she would look on this askance and soon we could treat her as one of the family. This proved untrue and even when, with the help of the local Cat Rescue person I managed to trap her in the house she proved unco-operative and escaped during the night via the cat flap. That was not to say that she was averse to lying on the sofa, with me, and having her fur ruffled, because that she seemed to enjoy. To those with new cats this may seem strange as mostly kittens take between one to three weeks to engage with a cat flap. It was at this point that we were certain she had been a house kitten and chosen to live outside.

As the seasons turn so do female cats come in to their natural season and thus our small Angel became a rather hippy child that middle daughter referred to as suffering from gas. My youngest daughter and her partner were overjoyed as they saw her as the epitome of all that was desirable in a house pet. (Sometimes I wonder about the young and their perception of reality) Much speculation ensued and orders were placed for potential offspring. We waited. Easter turned and there was little response until the early hours of the Easter Monday. She displayed all the signs of a cat in the progress of labour. We were not allowed to leave her alone. Youngest daughter and I sat out in the dark until gone three am despite the heavy dew and the inevitable damage to our lungs. Eventually she climbed into the rabbit hutch, which we had streamlined for her comfort and went to sleep. We crawled off to bed. No kittens were forthcoming.

Life resumed some sense of normality for two days until she suddenly walked off into the sunset and no more was seen of her for some four days. By this time I had been back to the local hospital for more tests and was not in the mood or physical condition to follow small felines on a creative kitten search. Luckily she came back the next evening and for this we were delighted. Youngest daughter had by this time returned to Preston and I immediately telephoned her with the good news.

Meanwhile in the depths of Hungary and just returned from her Milan trip eldest daughter was also fretting about the state of kittendom. I had to email reassurance of her return. The next day I awoke to find Angel at my bedroom window looking starved. (I am sure that she took an acting course to achieve this look as it is so professionally carried out.) Although I was very tired I got up and stayed within her reach for the next six hours. She had numerous food pouches and lots of concentrated dried food, together with a tin of red salmon I had saved for my lunch and some evaporated milk that I had purchased in case I needed to hand rear kittens. She spent much of the morning close to the hutch and we were again excited. The kittens had obviously been born elsewhere and it is unusual for a mother cat to move too far away from them. We surmised that they had been moved during the night into the hutch. As if to prove this she then started a tour of my room and the kitchen area of the house seeking another place for her brood. Eventually she took off over my neighbour’s wall and I went outside and peered into the rabbit hutch. There were no kittens.


It was some twenty minutes later that Angel re-appeared. She ate some more and then she had a dust bath before taking over a sunny spot for a long sleep. If ever a cat was happy she was definitely it. She ate yet again and sauntered off with out a care in the world. I had spent by this time, twelve hours on Angel watch and I felt exhausted. It is now the next day and she has not yet shown her face.

Catastrophes and thoughts on naming them

Over the years there have been many cats in my life and at one point I worked as a cat rescue resource in that I could take in seemingly feral kittens and tame them. It was mostly a matter of psychology. (Well that is what the cats said anyway.) You just had to appreciate whether the cat in question liked to be in four walls or out in the elements fighting off other cats, dogs, rabid humans and foxes. Most decided no they preferred comfort and the attention of human slaves. My now ex was not totally happy with this state of affairs as it meant that some of the rather large and often amorous ladies from cat rescue descended to coo at him and also he did not like to put himself out to take me and various felines to the vets for neutering. (I have to also add that no vet has in fact neutered me but I was hopeful that they might neuter my now ex.)

I also have always felt that cats deserve names that add distinction to their lives and perhaps reflect on their status. We therefore had one cat named ‘Frankly Six Cats are too Many’, a further stray and pregnant female who could hear you open a packet of crisp from half a mile, named ’ Gizza-a-bit’, and one still with us originally called ‘that cat’, then renamed ‘Fatso’ but now largely referred to as ‘Alzheimer’s’. (He keeps forgetting where he is and sometimes we think he forgets that he is a cat). We also have cats named wrongly as ‘Genghis’ who is a female and ‘Boudicca’ who we later discovered was a male. She has retained her title; as she is small and aggressive, whilst he is now referred to as Bobo, mind he now thinks that he is a reincarnated Egyptian god. (Photos on request from his agent).

My daughters have added cat personages to our entourage and we now have Middle daughters ‘baby’, which I named ‘Demon’. He bites. He bites her regularly but he is a thoughtful cat who likes to be involved and as many of them do he also likes to follow me as I go out to shop or generally walk about. He also likes to lurk in the bathroom and sit on the computer consol, most mornings will find him being spoon fed yogurt. He has the distinction of biting a lady who came for a reading of one hour and overstayed for three whilst still paying for one. On this occasion (no blood was drawn and as she had expensive nail extensions and tales of round the world holidays) I actually congratulated him on his taste. Also he does not bite me anymore, which is I find, useful as Bobo has to have a mad half hour at around four thirty, with his favourite toys. These consist of a catnip cushion shaped as a vet, a long piece of a la boa feather on a string and his ribbons. It also consists of play fighting with my feet, a strangely painful experience for me.

One of the oddest things about Demon is the way he reacts to being told off. Most cats in general and mine definitely in particular will ignore a mild rebuke saving the escape clause for a full frontal rage onslaught, as they obviously prefer to conserve energy, and anyway you could not be addressing them as they are obviously innocent of all wrong doing. Demon, even at a change of voice tone, will run and hide behind the sofa, in the shopping trolley or since Christmas in his very own Budweiser box. In fact you can say box to him in a stern manner and he races to hide in it. On the plus side if he is hidden it allows him the advantage of ambushing his fellows. This theory works brilliantly unless it is Genghis as she merely sits on top of the box and swipes at him when he tries to come out.

Middle daughter has also thoughtfully provided them with a cat play station that has three platforms, a walkway a swing tunnel and a pyramid nesting box. This occupies a large portion of the living room. Most of their toys are stored in the nesting box and swing and only one cat uses the station as the platforms get him just a micron closer to the heater. Sometimes I look at it and say a silent prayer that it will be stolen or disintegrate, or maybe teleport to another planet.

Cats have a strange relationship with bathrooms. I have noted many writers remark on this and also the need for them to escort their humans, or even just visitors, into the bathroom. One of our many cats played race you to the toilet. If he saw me approaching the staircase he would try and rush ahead of me to claim the toilet seat. One day I piped him to the post and as I lifted the seat he jumped for his goal and yes he landed in the toilet. It was funnily enough the last time that he played that game. Bobo, who hates me to be clean, sits outside the bathroom and huffs when I take a shower. One day he came in as I was running a bath and to show his disapproval jumped into the bath turned miraculously in mid-flight at the sight of bubbles and water and exited. He was not even damp.