Being a Cat Mammy is not for the faint hearted. Last week Felicity went missing for five hours, which is very unusual for her. I walked miles looking for her. I spoke to neighbours, children who usually play with her and any other hapless being I met, to no avail. My next door neighbours came home and I went out to ask them to keep an eye out for her. Turns out she had been in their house all along. With the dog. She came out, completely unfazed. The next day I heard the doorbell. Three local children stood there, holding Felicity tighly. “We found your cat!” they chorused. I can see that this could become a regular pantomime.
Yesterday I was reminded about a large cat we had in the shelter last year. He was nuts, running around like a lunatic knocking things down. He loved getting into my empty cattery laundry bag and being swung around from side to side. A home was found for him in a castle far away. Literally. The couple sent us a photo of them sitting looking bemused while this large creature sat on his haunches tucked between them, looking idiotically happy. It’s nice to have a happy end to the shelter stories sometimes. On a slightly different note, I saw that a lovely scented rose I had planted to celebrate the life of Blanket, an ancient tabby of 22 years, was in bloom. Fertile ancient bones indeed!
I went to collect Harry Three Paws from my neighbours yesterday evening. Two people, one cat, two comfortable reclining chairs. One cat on reclining chair. One person on plastic garden chair. They didn’t want to disturb him. How lucky he is and how lucky I am to have such great neighbours. May you be similarly blessed.