I was reading through the petz poll today and commented on why I voted cats as my favourite pets. I don't mean any disrespect to the dog but cats are so much easier to look after. Having said that, after reading this I fully expect to be reported to the RSPCA and be banned from ever owning another living creature. It's a good job I have no children because social services would remove them from me........Lets face it, even the hardiest house plants do not survive in my house.
When I first lived alone after Grego had moved out I was skint. I decided that I needed a lodger and persuaded an old childhood friend(Julie) to move in with me. I had no pets at that time but both Julie and myself had always had cats when we were growing up. It seemed that the natural thing to do was to adopt a cat. I was a student at the time and the midwife (Hugs) who was my mentor on community had a friend with a farm. There were loads of cats on the farm, bloody good mousers but unfortunately good breeders too.
Hugs offered to take us to her mate's farm as one of the cats had had kittens. They were about 4 months old, feral, not house trained but they needed to get rid of some of them. When we went to pick up the kitten it was in a cardboard box sealed tightly with breathing holes. Whenever we put our fingers near a hole an angry little claw would shoot out and attempt to rive the skin from our fingers. Undeterred we took him home and called him Charlie. When we opened the box a mangy looking whirlwind jumped out at us. We had no idea what colour he was supposed to be, he was completely covered in cow clap and reeked to high heaven...
We decided that our only course of action would be to give him a bath. We borrowed some thick asbestos gloves from Julie's dad to handle the cat with. I filled up the sink with a mixture of warm water and fairy liquid and the two of us put him in..... It was a real cat fight and a battle of wills ensued with the sodden soapy cat desperate to escape. Me and Julie were covered in scratches but we eventually won.
When we finished the bath we dried him with the hairdryer. He was a beautiful tortoise shell colour with no mange, bright eyes and needle sharp teeth. We gave him some food, put him in the litter tray then sat with a brew. He sniffed around a bit then came to sit on a knee. We had Charlie for 18 months and he turned into a very affectionate companion, he was a superb hunter who brought us unpleasant gifts from time to time. Charlie got into lots of scrapes whilst he was here. He pretty much tore the curtains to shreds in the early days by climbing them and he was forever getting stuck on the top of the pelmet. Julie would get a ladder and get him down, but I, determined to cure his curtain addiction left him crying for hours up there when Julie was at work.
I felt like a rotten sod for doing it, but it did do the trick. When Julie moved out 18 months later Charlie went with her. He preferred her knee to mine.......... I still saw him though. Whenever I went to visit Julie he would see my car coming and launch himself out of the bathroom window, onto the garage roof then onto the roof of the car...
I have lots of other cruel cat stories which I will blog some other time. I have to go and get ready for the meet up.
When I first lived alone after Grego had moved out I was skint. I decided that I needed a lodger and persuaded an old childhood friend(Julie) to move in with me. I had no pets at that time but both Julie and myself had always had cats when we were growing up. It seemed that the natural thing to do was to adopt a cat. I was a student at the time and the midwife (Hugs) who was my mentor on community had a friend with a farm. There were loads of cats on the farm, bloody good mousers but unfortunately good breeders too.
Hugs offered to take us to her mate's farm as one of the cats had had kittens. They were about 4 months old, feral, not house trained but they needed to get rid of some of them. When we went to pick up the kitten it was in a cardboard box sealed tightly with breathing holes. Whenever we put our fingers near a hole an angry little claw would shoot out and attempt to rive the skin from our fingers. Undeterred we took him home and called him Charlie. When we opened the box a mangy looking whirlwind jumped out at us. We had no idea what colour he was supposed to be, he was completely covered in cow clap and reeked to high heaven...
We decided that our only course of action would be to give him a bath. We borrowed some thick asbestos gloves from Julie's dad to handle the cat with. I filled up the sink with a mixture of warm water and fairy liquid and the two of us put him in..... It was a real cat fight and a battle of wills ensued with the sodden soapy cat desperate to escape. Me and Julie were covered in scratches but we eventually won.
When we finished the bath we dried him with the hairdryer. He was a beautiful tortoise shell colour with no mange, bright eyes and needle sharp teeth. We gave him some food, put him in the litter tray then sat with a brew. He sniffed around a bit then came to sit on a knee. We had Charlie for 18 months and he turned into a very affectionate companion, he was a superb hunter who brought us unpleasant gifts from time to time. Charlie got into lots of scrapes whilst he was here. He pretty much tore the curtains to shreds in the early days by climbing them and he was forever getting stuck on the top of the pelmet. Julie would get a ladder and get him down, but I, determined to cure his curtain addiction left him crying for hours up there when Julie was at work.
I felt like a rotten sod for doing it, but it did do the trick. When Julie moved out 18 months later Charlie went with her. He preferred her knee to mine.......... I still saw him though. Whenever I went to visit Julie he would see my car coming and launch himself out of the bathroom window, onto the garage roof then onto the roof of the car...
I have lots of other cruel cat stories which I will blog some other time. I have to go and get ready for the meet up.