Stephen and Matilda a tail of two terrible tabbies

Snow and cats and cold weather...

2012-02-09T08:19:00.001Z

Thought for the day
It's cold...

On the first day the white flakes started drifting down, much to to consternation of the cats. Stephen remembered this from last christmas, and he remembered he didn't like it. After failed attempts to persuade me to change the weather and turn the thermostat on the world outside up, he sulked. Matilda took one look, decided it was a) cold and b) wet and went to sleep by a radiator.

The second day. Stephen stared out of the window all day, ears flat back. He is going a bit crazy being cooped up, but runs away when the door is opened. Matilda, being sensible, migrated to her nest under the bed, determinedly dragging her food bowl behind her.

The third day. Matilda is setting up a holiday home under there. All you can usually see are two wide green eyes looking out.

Stephen? He was brave enough to step outside, although you have to admire his determination not to walk on snow -

- and that was where he ran out of snowfree bits to tread on, paused turned and headed back in.

This morning is shaping up to be similar. It's stopped snowing but it froze overnight, so the road is like an icerink. The cats took one look and Stephen and Matilda are now curled up together.

Considering who had been out the previous day enjoying the snow, I'm quite glad the cats hate it:

Lucky Black Cats?

2012-02-03T16:21:00.000Z

A pair of elderly gents currently in the Caterham Cats Protection have been brought to my attention. At 11 and thirteen they've got years ahead of them (cats can live to over twenty) and are sadly with CP because their owner died.

Tommy, age 11, who loves the outdoors, catnip and tickles, and Panther, age 13, a little on the shy side who would like a garden and sun.

These two charming black cats are looking for somewhere to spend their retirement.

I was surprised to hear people overlook black cats. Growing up in a fishing area of Britain black cats were considered lucky. A friend's black cat would vanish round the neighbourhood when the weather was bad as the crews' families tempted him in with food at each house to bring luck to the fishermen and the boats back safely.

Musical floorboards

2012-02-02T09:18:00.002Z

Dear Matilda,

We are aware of the loose floorboard in the bathroom (after you hid prawns under it) and have filled in the gap under it. This should mean that it is of no further interest to you.

Instead, it means that throughout the day we are intermittently treated to thwap-wappawappawappa as you try out your new musical instrument. Sitting on one end, hooking your claws over the other and pulling up until the claws slip and the floorboard snaps downwards and vibrates must be fun, from the number of times you do it a day.

However, one of these days you are going to shut your tail under it or the board will break. Worse, it will catapult you into a wall, or even the BATH. So shutting you out is in your own best interests, and we are not torturing you.

Regards,
The staff

P.S. Stephen, that door is closed to keep your sister out, not because there is anything interesting behind it. Please stop opening it and letting her back in.

Kibble Ball part 2

2012-01-30T06:16:00.001Z

Dear Stephen,

We went to the trouble of getting you a kibble ball for "environmental enrichment" and, let's be blunt, exercise. The idea is that we put kibble in it and you roll it to get the kibble. You weren't supposed to look at the kibble that fell out, trot across to your empty kibble dish and raise a furry eyebrow at us.

Attempt two with catnip treats worked well. However, pushing it slowly with your nose while holding your mouth open so the food just drops in is rather reminscent of Garfield, and does rather defeat the "exercise" part of the plan. Working out how to eat and avoid excercise at the same time is very clever but unless you want to turn back into the couch-kitty you were when you came to us, you're going to have to get some exercise.

Regards,
Your staff

Maisie and Monty - Adopt your own terrible two?

2012-01-27T14:24:00.000Z

I could blog about Stephen and Matilda, but after this week, the Koosh ball solution, and the catnip emergency I don't want to think about it. Those stories are coming up soon.

Menahwile, if anyone's interested in their own pair of moggies, the local CPS has two in.

Maisie and Monty are currently looking for a new home. Just like Stephen and Matilda, one is outgoing while the other is quiet and shy. Maise is a beautiful outgoing Tuxedo cat aged 4, while her companion Monty is a tabby-and-white 3 year old.

If you've got space, a garden and a spare lap, could these two fill it?

Help Cats Protection win £5000

2012-01-23T16:07:00.004Z

One of our local Cats Protection charities has been selected for a possible £5,000 prize (that's about $7,750 at the current exchange rate). As a small branch entirely run by volunteers, the prize would make a real difference to them.

The competition is run by "Animal Friends", a pet insurance company on Facebook. If you are a Facebook user, please vote for them - more details are available here Cats Protection Caterham.

or just go straight to the competition at FeelGoodPark:

The Competition

As this was the branch our two meowing residents came from, any clicks will merit purrs.

World of Felix - a disappointment

2012-01-22T16:07:00.000Z

Back in August I mentioned a World of Felix offer to donate to Cats Protection in exchange for tokens. I duly sent off my 120 tokens the day I placed the order, glued neatly to the order form so it could go as standard letter.

Two months later and they were still "Waiting for tokens". Oh well, I thought, they must have got lost in the post, and in September (on 10/3/2011 at 10:11:27 AM) placed another order and sent off my next 168 tokens, glued neatly in place...

Well, it's been three months. Both orders are still "Waiting for tokens". While I may believe that one set of tokens was lost in the post, to believe both were is a stretch. Since it wouldn't be the first time a company has failed to come through for a charity donation, I find myself thinking the worst. After all, this mess certainly has the predictable effect that I won't be submitting any more tokens to World of Felix.

If anyone has more luck with this offer let me know. I've another two hundred odd tokens saved, but I don't trust the company very much right now.

Roomba-kitty?

2012-01-13T13:51:00.002Z

I'm beginning to think to cats think the roomba is another round, rather thick, not furry, cat.

It broke a while back, right as the warranty ran out, so we went back to hoovering. The cats hated it: hiding, attacking the vacuum, hissing at it, attacking the person using it...it was not pleasant. Then I found this little place that specialises in out of warranty roomba repairs, and when we contacted them it was surprisingly affordable (we certainly couldn't afford to buy a replacement!). So we sent it off and got it back before christmas - fully repaired and working wonderfully.

The first clue the cats were glad to see it was when I started it up, and Stephen proceeded to feed it. He scooped kibble up in his mouth, sat down, and proceeded to drop it directly in front of the roomba. When it had hoovered that bit up, he went and got another. He has also taken to sitting in doorways or by the top of the stairs and smacking the front bumper with a paw if it gets too close.

I had no clue Matilda felt the same. She normally runs away from it. And then, this afternoon, she came in and raised a ruckus. She was running back and forth, yowling, wapping my ankles with a paw, running to the door and back, so I got up to follow her. I rather assumed Stephen was in trouble (again). Instead there's Matilda standing in front of a table meowing frantically as the roomba bumps back and forth underneath it, having got stuck.It chose that moment to make it's soft despondent "lost" noise and stop moving. Matilda froze, staring at it and gave me a look I can only interpret as "It's died!". I fished it out, started it up again and told her it was going to be fine. I don't think she believes me - right now she's sitting next to it, intently watching it charge.

Not quite roomba-driving but having two cats roomba-mothering is still funny.

Then again, since they have discovered that the alternative is the evil hoover, I think they want to ensure it stays in good health for a long time to come.

A tale of two cat toys

2012-01-08T19:47:00.000Z

One bad, one good. Since we had to get some essentials for the cats from a specialist shop (since Stephen killed the litter scoop and the fountain was choking), we also picked up two new toys.

We were very disappointed with the catnip mice. They were a new make, but once I got them out of the bag:
- One had an open seam
- The whiskers, made of fine thread, could be pulled entirely through one side and out the other - dangerous if a cat eats it
- the stuffing was coming out through a single mesh out layer.
- I had to use modelling tweezers to retrieve bits of plastic tie from inside it

We won't be giving those to the cats, for obvious reasons. There will be a complaint going in.

The other toy was a plastic ball with holes in. We tried filling it with kibble, and Stephen gave us a distainful look and went to the kibble bowl. So we put a few catnip drops in it.

He rolled it disdainfully, and then one of the drops came out. He scooped it up in a paw and examined it curiously. Then he sniffed it. Then whatever he'd picked up was subjected to a furious licking, munching and chewing. Suddenly they got the idea. Stephen was rolling it along the floor with his nose for a while, while Matilda licked his head. When he got tired she took over "driving".

Now they are both flat out on the floor, guarding their little ball in case it dispenses more treats.

Shaved by Sweeney Todd

2012-01-06T07:51:00.001Z

Thought for the day:
Never be holding a cat when they see a squirrel

Trying to get over my shoulder to get the squirrel, she got my neck. It looks like I've just been shaved by Sweeney Todd.

Ear to ear, right across the front of my throat. Four parallel cuts, blood everywhere, and I'm typing one handed and holding a TCP-soaked cloth to the wounds. My once white T-shirt will be going in the wash...And the cat's sitting there calmly licking her paws clean. I hope she doesn't get a taste for it.

Thanks, Matilda.

Let this not be the theme for 2012. Please?

Christmas Chicken

2011-12-31T14:40:00.001Z

It's Christmas, and Christmas means poultry - in our case chicken as we were having a small christmas this year. This meant fending off the cats and, as anyone who has encountered two little furry faces staring fixedly at the oven door knows, they can be quite determined.

Christmas Day went off without a hitch, but as always there was some chicken left so I was rendering the leftovers when the phone rang.

When I got back the kitchen door was open. I blinked. I was fairly certain I'd closed it.

Did that chicken have ears?

I approached quietly, looking at two ears sticking up from the other side of the chicken. A pair of green eyes rolled up and looked at me, but the head didn't raise. It would have been difficult with teeth firmly sunk into a chicken leg.

Stephen had taken his chance, let himself into the kitchen and somehow hidden his entire body behind a chicken smaller than he was. He was also taking the chance to chow down, and wasn't happy when I removed him. Cats shouldn't have cooked poultry bones, and he hates bones in food anyway, but this is the cat that raided a metal bin for chicken string so I checked very carefully to make sure we weren't in for another vet trip. We were in luck.

So were Stephen and Matilda.

After all, it would have been a shame to waste the rendered chicken, and with half the left-overs covered in cat hair and licked thoroughly, we weren't going to eat it!

(We're still well ahead on last year though:)

Funny Cartoon Cat Christmas Card - Personalize it! by personalizecards
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That's not a cat!

2011-12-16T11:16:00.000Z

Thought for the Day
Is it really do hard to believe Stephen is a cat?

I've mentioned the little girl on the bus who took one look in the carrier and said "Look mum, a bear!", but we've just had another one.

I probably should have expecting it, after all I was discussing Stephen around Halloween, with a friend who asked why we had deadbolts on all the cupboard doors. I went through the basics: we had a large cat with opposable thumbs, more than usual intelligence, and a knack for getting into trouble. Considering the time of year I shouldn't have been surprised when he started laughing and exclaimed:

"That's not a cat, that's a familiar!"

The "familiar" in question looked up, blinked and stretched out his neck for more tickles. His fiendish plans for Halloween involved more catfood, stroking, and naps.

He's not a familiar, but Stephen's definitely family.

Bird food? That's not good for you...

2011-12-10T12:23:00.001Z

Thought for the day
The only cat who would raid a bird table for the food, and not the birds...

We'd been wondering why Stephen kept being sick.

A few weeks ago, we'd brought in the fat balls we had hung out for the birds through summer. They were in a closed box with other gardening bits. The cats couldn't get into it, it's a double lid that folds over once and then has a tab slot in. Besides, what are they going to do with it if they do get a fat ball? Play with it?

Eat it.

That's right, our cat eats bird food. We noticed one missing, but thought we must have miscounted. Then another one vanished a few days later. We put them on a high shelf and searched, but there was no sign. We didn't find them until I heard munching from under a bed. I looked underneath, expecting to find cached cat food.

Instead, Stephen looked up from the remains of a disintegrated fatball, face covered in tallow and seeds, glared defiantly and went back to eating. It took me a moment to fully register and realise it probably wasn't good for him, but the moment I reached for it, he picked it up and backed to the far corner where he proceeded to devour it with urgency. Getting the remains away from him did involve hisses, flailing paws and eventually TCP on my arms.

The fat balls are now locked in a cupboard - which he can't reach - with a dead bolt.

We learned two things from this:
1) For Stephen, nothing is impossible
2) That cat really will eat anything.

Confuzzlement

2011-12-05T10:55:00.001Z

Thought for the day
He's not you, honest

A group of new cats moved into the neighbourhood over summer, two kittens and an adolescent. They also tried to move onto Stephen's turf, the garden, since they are small enough to climb in using tree branches which won't hold him if he tries to get out.

Two of them, Stephen reacts to like any other cats he sees: he hisses, waves a paw menacingly and gives chase. I can understand his feelings - when the adolescent one crept in through an open door while we were gardening and used Stephen's litterbox he took this as a declaration of war. An explosive chase sequence ensued.

And then there is the third one. A kitten. The first time I saw it, I asked R if he was sure our two were neutered. The cats had much the same reaction. Matilda, Ms. Shy, walked up stuck a paw on its head and started grooming it. Stephen just watches it. If he sees it up a tree, he just smirks proudly.

Because this cat is literally a miniature Stephen. Same markings, same colour and as far as our cats seem to think, the same scent.

Ours were neutered at least two years ago. All we can assume is that, because our two came from a multi-cat household, the kitten came from the same one or one of the cats from there that they knew.

Matilda in Drawers

2011-12-03T11:26:00.000Z

Thought for the day
I nearly didn't see her before I shut it

Since this photo was taken Matilda has in fact managed to get herself shut in drawers. When I let her out, she was upset I'd disturbed her nap.

Cats Protection Christmas

2011-12-01T08:57:00.001Z

The Cats Protection Christmas Catalogue have now got their range of cards and gifts available online for Christmas. It all helps to feed and look after cats, so please have a look and if there's anything there to interest you - or your cat!

Cat's Protection Shop

Starving Stephen

2011-11-30T06:53:00.001Z

Stephen got rushed to the vet yesterday night. On Monday he was sick several times. One Tuesday it looked as if he couldn't keep anything down.

We were worried: worms? Kidney failure?

No. While the vet did shave a small patch and take blood samples, as well as giving us an extra worming tablet, it is something much more basic. It seems even cats can eat bad food.

Good news? It's not serious. The bad news? This means starving Stephen for twenty-four hours. As a rescue cat he already has food issues and tend to panic if food is removed.

It's been twelve hours since we were told, in which time he has
- ferreted out some grotty old biscuits
- sampled the curtains
- gone through the rubbish bin
- and when we got up this mornoing parked himself by the toilet roll and began to munch.

He's also attacking his sister non-stop. Feeding Matilda is eventful since it involves luring a cat who hates confinement into a room, putting food down quickly and then holding the doorhandle to stop Stephen getting in.

The vet says that he can have rice and chicken to settle his stomach after twenty-four hours. Since he hasn't eating anything since midday yesterday, we're both wondering if we can wait until six to give it to him.

Meanwhile the looks, protests, and silent miaows are heart-breaking.

Update: We cracked and put down the plain rice and chicken. Stephen gave it one sniff, gave us an appalled look with a general expression of "What on earth is this!?" and is now ostentatiously ignoring us.

We should have done this last night. He would have voluntarily starved himself and we would have had a more peaceful evening.

Cats and Thumbs

2011-11-27T11:14:00.002Z

Thought for the day...
No, I'm serious, he really does have thumbs

For the last shot of Stephen's thumbs I got accused of using Photoshop. I'm not sure why: polydactyl cats aren't exactly rare. Look at the Hemmingway cats.

So here's another shot: showing him lying down with one of his back paws stretched out and the thumb extended.

An open letter on boxes

2011-11-24T07:41:00.003Z

Dear cats,

Your owners are preparing to attend a public event. We know this is interesting, with all the boxes and sheets and luggage that is being moved around in your house. That said, you need to understand there are certain places you do not belong at the moment:

a) in the boxes
b) in the luggage. No matter how much we love you we are not taking you with us.
c) directly under wherever we are putting our feet down at that precise moment.
d) Climbing the curtains is never acceptable even if you do just want a better look.

And I repeat, please stay away from the boxes. We do not want a repeat of last time when one friend picked up a too-heavy box, only to nearly drop it as the sudden weight moved. Stephen, you nearly gave him a heart attack when your inquisitive head lifted the flaps and looked round before you jumped out and sauntered off.

In general, please behave. Just this once?

Regards,
A stressed staff member

Feline Nursemaids

2011-11-20T09:18:00.000Z

Thought for the day
...not the eyes!

Cats can tell when you are ill. However I think these two are taking it to extremes. R. says that they know what side their bread's buttered on, and don't want anything to spoil their lovely retirement.

The first time, when I ended up going to bed with what turned out to be severe flu, I had two cats standing guard on the bed through the day. I could have sworn they were taking shifts. The next time it happened I woke up to something warm, and found Stephen curled up under the covers by my ribs, acting like a cross between a hot water bottle and a teddy-bear. With the fever I was running, he might just have wanted to be close to the warm thing.

This time was odd. I woke up and just knew something wasn't right. Somewhere I could hear a motor...I turned my head. The pillow was furry.I cracked an eye open, and bleared at the room. Two green eyes stared back, ears flicking, and the motor got louder.

Matilda had somehow displaced my pillow, and curled round my head. She was obviously very happy in her new position. It was very touching, and considering her normal method of medical treatment (she favours blood-letting), rather disturbing. Those claws were far too close to my face. When I tried to move, I got a warning paw on my forehead and she tried to groom my hair.

Unfortunately she decided she likes this sleeping position, and nights have become a battle of wits between myself and my pillow, and a determined cat who wants to be a pillow.

give blood cat by dabunny
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Stephen and Shoes

2011-11-18T11:04:00.000Z

Thought for the day...
I thought only dogs liked chew toys

If a picture's worth a thousand words, here's four thousand and the fate of my poor shoes: thoroughly chewed, sniffed and slept on.

Their own Wizzley Page

2011-11-16T08:48:00.001Z

A quick break from tails of the twosome, to mention they now have their own Wizzley page. It has a few thoughts on adopting an older cat (don't expect them to be sedate and boring just because they aren't kittens!) features from this blog and, of course, photos.

Stephen and Matilda

As it gets towards winter, and they trade running round the garden for staring out of the window at the rain in horror, expect there to be a few more picture entries on the blog.

That's if they don't decide that since they are in the house and I am in the house, it is my job to entertain them...

Self-Inflicted Injuries

2011-11-14T06:39:00.000Z

After seeing the wounds, people in the office keep saying that work isn't that bad...

You could say this was self-inflicted I suppose: caused by picking Stephen up, when he wanted to go down.

Not in the Dark

2011-11-07T21:25:00.003Z

As the evenings roll around earlier and earlier, Stephen is getting less and less time to go outside and proclaim the territory his own. The rain isn't helping either as he insists that it stop before he even considers going outside. Same goes for drizzle as well, even though I would be amazed if he could feel it through his fur. As for darkness, he doesn't appear to see that well, and reacts more off sound and keep peering warily out to try and identify the strange noises in the bushes.

So to try and tempt him out, we shone the laser pointer, his new favourite toy outside in an attempt to get him running around and having some fun.

Was he having any of it....No.

Oh, he was wasn't quite that interested. A half walk-half trot after it, keeping one eye on it and the other on that strange noise in the bush before sitting down and studiously ignoring it in favour of a dark patch behind a tree.

He wasn't interested in his not quite so favourite toy until he was back indoors and not having to worry about being King of the garden again.

Stephen: the fussy lap cat

2011-11-03T11:00:00.000Z

It has been a long time coming, but Stephen is finally turning into a real lap cat. We were originally told he was, but given his size and joy of shredding things we were not so sure. Previously, he used to sit on your lap as long as you didn't move. Not a problem given his weight. But now, he has decided that being a lap cat is not all that bad after all.

He is still fussy about when he will be a lap cat. Only certain chairs count that he will jump up on and the lap has to have a cushion on it, otherwise he gets very pointy. If those criteria are satisfied, then so is he. Given his size, he is still quite a bundle to have on your lap, but he has decided that being stroked and tickled like this is rapturous and has so far avoided digging his claws into me when he has got a little too carried away.

Matilda, on the other hand, still prefers just to hide behind someone on a chair.

Laser pointers?

2011-10-31T07:50:00.001Z

Thought for the day
At last, a tool for cat exhaustion that works!

In the sales, we picked up a small laser pointer for an upcoming demonstration. We needed to test it, so we choose a feline audience. Safety advice from the pet shop was to make sure the cat was always between us and the dot so it doesn't shine in their eyes.

Stephen loves it. Up and down the hall, round the house and anywhere the little red dot can flee. He's shredding the carpet nicely but having so much fun. He also confirmed he has good object permenance skills - put the dot in a box and turn it off and he will look in the box...then walk up to you and glare until you make his playmate reappear. He only desisted when I used the dot to lead him to a catnip mouse.

Matilda? She runs away from it. In the cat that chases watch reflections, car shadows and anything that moves that was a shock.

Photos (or videos of the insanity that is Stephen) will be coming soon.

A cat in the dark

2011-10-26T07:45:00.000+01:00

We had a brief powercut this morning. When I heard something moving nearby I grabbed a camera (it has become a reflex, living with these two) and snapped a picture in the dark.

Once the power came back up, I loaded it into Photoshop and turned the contrast up:

Poor cat! I'd forgotten how much he hates storms and the dark. He and Matilda are now nonchalently wrapped round my feet and, from the look of them, not planning to go anywhere for the near future.

Two Cats Homed.

2011-10-24T20:20:00.002+01:00

We had some news today that really made our day: Max and Millie have been homed. Best wishes to their new owners (staff?) and we hope that life with them will prove a little less eventful than our two have.

Cats and Taps

2011-10-18T10:05:00.000+01:00

Thought for the day
I'm not sure but I know what the evidence points to...

A few days ago I noticed the lever tap on the bath was turned on in the middle of the day. Thinking that was a bit odd, I turned it off. When it happened again, I thought we needed new taps. Matilda likes sleeping in the bath when it is dry, so we had a chuckle over the chance of her getting her feet wet. Little did we know...

Yesterday morning the tap started running first thing and I turned it off. Half an hour later there was a dreadful scrabbling and Matilda shot out of the bathroom soaking wet. Stephen sauntered out behind her, paused and gave me his best inocent look. When I checked the bathroom, the tap was running.

Ten minutes ago, and the same procedure: The sudden sound of water; MIAOW, scrabble, flee from a very wet Matilda; and Stephen sauntering out sitting down and licking a paw. Once again I had to turn the tap off.

Now I have no proof that Stephen has learned to turn the tap on. I know what the circumstantial evidence points to, however, and I really hope he gets tired of this game soon. Otherwise we'll be changing the taps to rotary ones just to stop him wasting water.

They've also got a vet trip coming up, so expect another entry shortly.

WET by wildmog
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Get your own terrible tabbies?

2011-10-16T19:54:00.000+01:00

Just a quick post about rescue cats - well, two in particular.

With the recession, a number of pairs of older cats (7 years+) have been left homeless. As you can see from our experiences with Stephen and Matilda, older cats do not simply sleep all the time. In fact, they can be quite active companions and utterly devoted to their owners.

Max and Millie are two seven year old tabbies currently in the East Surrey Cats Protection. "Lively, playful and curious" brings to mind the description of our two when we got them a couple of years ago, also aged seven, from the same Cats Protection.

If you are looking for cats, please consider giving two more tabbies a home. All tails should have a happy ending.

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Cat in a box

2011-10-12T07:03:00.001+01:00

Thought for the day
With cats you never know what will happen next.

Matilda walked in with a box on her head. Then she walked straight into a wall, turned unsteadily and flumped down sideways. There was this vaguely mournful meow from inside the box.

I went to the rescue. It was a small box, a tight fit, and her ears were flat back. I could just see the tips under the edge of the box. However there was a simple solution: cat's scruff in one hand, box in other and pull. The box came off and Matilda blinked. Then she scratched me.

I should have read the box label. Catnip. She'd got the box the fresh catnip came in, and wedged it on her head. She had no desire to have this box removed. Rather miffed, she picked it up and wandered off with it to the nearest wall. The she dropped it, stuck her nose in it and charged. Box reattached.

She lay down, job done. The other thing that box does well is act as an amplifier. The purr is spectacular.

I'll rescue her shortly, but for now I'll leave her because she's in a happy place - and because it is very funny watching this box look round when there's a noise outside.

Catnip Kitty by geekboy
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Not a crunchy treat

2011-10-07T07:47:00.005+01:00

Thought for the day
When the cats flee the spider you know it's a large one.

You know it's a spider too large to be dubbed a "crunchy treat" when Matilda hares up the stairs and peers cautiously through the bannisters. Then Stephen does the same thing. I took a look.

Okay, the windows are open, it can make its own way out. That in fact was my whole plan until Special Forces Sergeant Stephen decided Stealth Assassination was in order.

He slunk down the stairs silently, one paw at a time, belly against the carpet. At the bottom he took cover, camoflaged behind the coats, tail straight as a baton. His head swung one way. His head swung the other way. He surveyed the battlefield. His tail twitched once.

The coats erupted as he sprung out, covering three feet in a pounce. One paw flashed out to full length and slammed down and then he was gone, dashing at full speed into the other room. Noisy claws in the carpet rather ruined the stealth effect.

His victim was still there, just very dead. Neither cat would go near it, leaving corpse disposal to the owner.

Once it was gone, Stephen came trotting back up the stairs, tail up like a banner, ears perked up, to be greeted by head bumps and a thorough grooming from his sister. Obviously Matilda is a cat who appreciates being rescued.

War Hero Cat by Louis Wain Card by Artworks
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A rotten trick

2011-10-06T18:00:00.000+01:00

Thought for the day...
A bad way to find out the cat has been sick in your shoe is when you put your foot in it.

Yeah. That just happened.

Both cats have a bad habit of caching food in places (e.g. the notorious incident with the prawns). We think it's a holdover from their origins, but with three plates of biscuits, two water bowls a fountain and three square meals a day you'd hope they would eventually realise they won't starve. Yesterday I found and cleared their most recent cache.

It seems Stephen is upset. From the state of the hall Stephen gorged, then threw up, and gorged some more. It's a bit of a mess.

I'm sitting here with a newly washed foot, feeling vaguely ill, and their other staff member is cleaning up the mess. Matilda is sitting looking smug and Stephen's happily trotted off round the garden.

The shoes are in the bin. There's a limit to what I'll try to clean.

Give a cat a pill the easy way

2011-10-03T07:18:00.000+01:00

Thought for the day:
Whiskas Sticks - the bloodless way to give a cat a pill. Thank you Whiskas!

1) Break off small section
2) Push pill into it
3) Give to cat.
4) Munching ensures
5) Cat looks at bare floor
6) Cat looks at you
7) Give cat another small bit to avoid further claw/skin contact
8) (Optional) Give his sister a bit to avoid secondary claw/ankle contact.

They can only have one stick a day, but you can get nine sections out of a stick which is fine for three pills a day. The only problem is keeping the sticks away from the cats the rest of the time!

The morale:

Use of this:

Avoids use of this:

Thank you, Whiskas!

Vet visit results

2011-09-21T11:19:00.000+01:00

Got back from the vet last night, and he's recovering nicely. The two claws are beginning to grow back under the scabs, and when she cleaned it out the back claw is healing nicely.

It looks a lot better than it did, and he's running around on it quite happily. Now we just have to keep an eye on it...and keep giving him pills. I don't think he appreciates them.

An injury

2011-09-20T08:55:00.000+01:00

(Four days ago)

Dear Stephen,

We need to talk. You are getting a reputation at the vet as the cat that got trapped by a boiler/ate string/raided a bin/and various other completely unnecessary and expensive accidents.

Walking in today with your paw covered in blood, rolling over and refusing to move is a good way to scare your owners. Getting rushed to the vet where they find out that somehow in the five minutes you were unsupervised outside you have splintered every single claw on all four paws, two down to the quick, was not good news.

So for the next few days you are going to be on pills and liquid. Please take them. Otherwise the vet was talking claw amputation. This means that even if you do shut yourself in the cupboard or climb the curtains, your devoted owners will be retrieving you and sticking the pills down your furry throat. Feeding it to your sister, as you tried last time, will not be an option.

Why do you do this to yourself? Why? And more importantly, how?

Regards,
Your owner.

(Three days ago)

Dear Stephen,

This morning was concealed pill and towel-wrapping time, with many objections.

This evening you decided that you liked the pill enough to steal it while I was putting it in the chewy stick and down it in one gulp. Headbutting me until I gave you the chew anyway was sweet. Whatever brought this mood change on, long may it last!

Regards,
The staff

(Today)

He's due back at the vet later, but he's walking again. His front dew claw is regrowing, but the back claw has a large and messy scab. I'll post an update, along with what we suspect happened, tomorrow.

Proof he is actually recovering:

What do I do with it? Part 4

2011-08-04T10:46:00.011+01:00

Confirmed from the wildlife sanctuary: The bird is fine, recovered and has even found a companion in their aviary. The sanctuary will be releasing it into a nature reserve in August.

The hospital that did all this work with the bird, and rescued Stephen's would-be lunch was the London Wildcare Trust. We were very impressed, and they do a great job. For more about their work in wildlife rescue, click the logo.

Stephen has not brought any more fledglings in. However he does keep sitting outside and staring wistfully up at the now-empty nest.

An upcoming trip to the V-E-T

2011-06-08T19:48:00.003+01:00

A year has rolled round since they last went to the vet to have their teeth checked and descaled and now its time to do it again. Another day of taking their food away early and having them be nervous.

Fortunately this is just for a check up, we are not expecting them to have to be knocked out.

I am really not looking forward to this.

What do I do with it? Part 3

2011-05-22T16:50:00.003+01:00

We contacted the Wildlife sanctuary today to see if there was an update on the fledgling we took in.

We were a bit worried to find out there was no update, but they only update if the animal has been released or has died. The fledgling has, at least, survived this far, had its antibiotic injection and is being fed and kept warm. Shortly they will be introducing it to other birds and releasing all of them as a group into one of their sanctuary parks where it can learn to fly properly.

Meanwhile, Stephen has being moping around the house looking guilty, being very affectionate and still wondering what happened. He keeps looking around outdoors to see if he can find another, but thankfully he hasn't managed that one yet.

Unfortunately, his apologies also include being a 7kg lapcat. It's hard to move or breathe when he is sitting on you.

What do I do with it? Part 2

2011-05-20T20:50:00.001+01:00

By the time I got there, Stephen had made several attempts at getting into the bedroom.

It started with trying to put a paw under the door and rattle it open.
Then he climbed on a box and tried to reach the handle.
Then he tried to charge it at full speed and had to be picked up.

Matilda had wandered up and taken one look at what he was doing and decided to leave him to it.

While tirial kept them at bay, I took a look under the bed and saw the fledgling still breathing but in shock. Unsure of what we should do with a small bird under the bed and really not wanting it to die there, we phoned our local vet who gave us the details of a nearby sanctuary.

The next job was to retrieve the bird and put it in something to transport it. We needed a small box to put it in and we didn't have any. Then inspiration struck, we had some boxes that had been broken down that were the perfect size. One of them was hastily reconstructed with sticky tape and filled with tissue paper. Then I gently reached under the bed and put it in.

At that point I realised the box had been used to hold cat food and I had just put a small bird in it. We also put in some water and some crumbled pieces of a fat ball before taking it to the centre.

The Wildlife sanctuary were happy to receive it and it went off to be put in a heat box and be taken care of. It didn't look to have any injuries and in reasonable condition, given all the shocks that had happened, and were hopeful it would survive. As are we.

What do I do with it? Part 1

2011-05-19T20:33:00.003+01:00

It was quite the phone call I received...

Stephen and Matilda had been out in the garden prowling around enjoying the sunshine and watching the birds. In particular the nest of some sparrows that have been set up in one of the nearby trees. It now being spring, it looks like some of the chicks had started to become fledglings and one of them had decided that today was going to be the day it would take its first flight from the nest.

It wasn't very successful and had been hiding behind some rubble while it tried to work out what its feathers were supposed to do. At which point, Stephen pounced on it and picked it up in his mouth.

Stephen has never been near a fledgling before and was quite perplexed as to what to do with his new toy. A feral cat would have taken it somewhere and done what feral cats do in this situation and eaten it. Stephen did not have a clue and so did the only thing that made sense. He would ask someone else what to do with it. Being a smart cat, he wandered straight up to tirial with it and looked up enquiringly, bird flapping in mouth.

Realising what he was holding in Stephen's mouth, tirial was not best pleased and tried to get Stephen to drop the fledgling, which he did under a bed. tirial shooed him out and went back to see what state the bird was in, only to find Matilda had proceeded to start licking it all over. It was a very frightened, but now clean, fledgling.

Matilda was evicted and I was asked to come and lend a hand as moving the fledgling and keeping both cats at bay was a two-person job.

All in a tangle

2011-04-16T09:59:00.000+01:00

I should have remembered that Stephen is the reason we have tied all the blind cords up well out of reach. I was untangling some string for the garden when this happened...

Since the camera was to hand I snapped a few more shots before untangling the feline.

Escape Artist

2011-04-08T09:24:00.003+01:00

Thought for the day
There's no such thing as cat proofed.

Last year we cat-proofed the garden to prevent the cats getting out. This involved nailing bits of wood over gaps, filling in foxpaths, repairing fences and generally doing a lot of little fixes. Last year it worked perfectly.

So this weekend, we let them out into the back and went to work on the front of the house. I was knelling down, working away when I saw something moving out of the corner of my eye. I looked round. There was Stephen, tail swishing, standing right next to me. He looked round, looked up at me, and nonchalantly gave my hand a quick head-butt, every inch of feline conveying the attitude of "Don't mind me, I'm just off round the neighbourhood."

I was less enamoured of this plan than he was, so I scooped him up, intending to put him back through the gate that had come open, only to see the gate was still closed. Meanwhile he'd worked out that I wanted to stop him exploring and had begun to squirm. He's difficult to manage so I decided to get him indoors and then worry. There are good reasons we don't want him near the road: halfway back towards the gate, a car went passed. The lump promptly dug all claws into my arms, went from squirming to shivering, and tried to climb inside my sweater.

After being an indoor cat for many years before he came to us, he has no traffic sense. At least it made it easier to get him in the back, where the problems really started. We should have remembered that this is the cat who once pulled the entire plinth off the front of a kitchen cupboard when he was chasing a bug. The plank of wood nailed across one of the exits had been pulled free, and left halfway up the path. He'd then simply crawled out through the gap.

We wedged the plank back as best we could, leaving a tiny gap that he could not get through, and went back to work...only to catch Matilda sticking her head and paw through and trying to force a wider gap that she could climb out from.

This was when we gave up and went to work in the back. We're going to have to review our cat proofing.

Cat in a box

2011-03-28T09:00:00.000+01:00

Thought for the day:
A picture is worth a thousand words

Cat Grass Part Two - Matilda

2011-03-08T09:31:00.001Z

Thought for the day
Thanks heavens she doesn't do that to the lawn.

Matilda has a very odd reaction to cat grass. Sometimes she eats it like a normal cat. More often she plucks it.

She will start sitting at one end of the tray, carefully isolate one strand between her teeth, and only one, and run her mouth down towards the soil. Then she closes her mouth and with a fast twist and an upwards jerk, yanks the grass out root and all. Then she shakes her head, letting it fly off and watches it land. Then she moves on to the next strand.

Eventually she tires of it and walks off leaving grass flung about everywhere. She's soft-mouthed enough that I can replant most of it - at least until she decides to play again in a few days' time.

I did wonder, because she is supposed to eat the grass to aid digestion. So this time I gathered a set of her uprooted grass strands together and held it out under her nose to try to encourage her to eat it. Vigorous sniffing commenced. I held still as she opened her mouth, hoping she might decide to actually take a bit. Delicately she took a few strands in her mouth and ran her teeth up and down them until only one was left. Then she closed her grip, plucked it neatly from my hand and threw it across the room, watching it float gently down. Then she moved on to the next strand...

I may not have found a way to improve her diet with cat grass, but we've got a new game out of it!

The leaflet

2011-02-28T08:30:00.001Z

Thought for the day
I thought dogs fetched the post...

As so many of these stories start, I was working quietly in my office minding my own business. Normally a crash signals the cats are up to something. This time I heard a scream.
I rushed to the front door, wondering if someone had had an accident on the drive, and looked out to see a lady leaning against the doorframe, looking rather pale. Quickly I opened the door.
"Are you alright?"
"You shouldn't play tricks like that on people."
"Tricks?"
"Yes. Snatching my leaflet with that furry hand..." I paused. I looked down beside me. I opened the door further so she could see what I could: Stephen sitting on the table by the door, her leaflet neatly under his paws and one thumb curled over the table's edge.
"Oh," she said. Then: "Oh, isn't he a big boy..."
Fortunately she was a cat lover. Due admiration of the kitty commenced, and she got a good story out of it, as did I. However I will be moving the table further back to make sure he doesn't give anyone else a heart attack.

Cat Grass - Part 1

2011-02-22T09:28:00.003Z

Cat Grass is a coarse grass you can grow indoors for your cats to eat. Meant for indoor cats, our brave pair's aversion to the rain (shared by their owners) meant they hadn't been going out much, so for the second year running I planted some for them.

Now I have a small issue I would like to raise with Johnson's seeds. The picture on the front is not representative.

It shows a black and white cat calmly peering over the top of thick cat grass. What it should show, from my experience, is a cat's ears barely visible, the fur covered in grass, as green debris flies everywhere from enthusiatic munching. Or just a shot of a cat covered in grass cuttings (chewings?) from head to toe, looking decidedly smug and licking a paw.

You'd have though I would have known better than to grow it this year. "I'll put it on the bedroom window sill," I said. "They can't reach that," I said. I did, they could - somehow, and now our bedroom carpet is green and strewn with bits of grass. Two satisfied cats are sitting in the middle of it, so I'll wait until they move before clearing it up. While they're sleepy they don't get into more mischief.

This also means I will have to find somewhere different for the Catnip plants I was growing as a treat.

Matilda vs the Voile Panel Part II

2010-12-03T18:39:00.000Z

So, we know that Matilda has an ongoing war with the voile panel. She won the first part and it has been down for a couple of weeks, while we decided what to do about it. We decided to try and put it back up again as normal, hoping that the gap in time would be enough that they would at least leave it alone for a little while.

5 minutes...

5 minutes is all it took before it came crashing down again and the culprit was, of course, Matilda having discovered one of her favourite toys is back again.

So, we have now put in something slightly sturdier to support the voile panel and now we are just waiting to see how she manages to bring it down again next time.

And knowing her, there will be a next time...

Its cold outside, I'm not going out.

2010-12-01T18:40:00.003Z

It's snowing heavily outside. It looks halfway between a Winter Wonderland and doubling for Narnia under the White Queen. Of course, this change in scenery has interested Stephen, who wants to know what is going on.

So, we opened the door to let him out and investigate and he sat there. I'm not sure whether it was an unwilllingness to get cold or wet or shock at the strange new world in front of him.

Either way, he didn't want to know about going outside and after a couple of sniffs turned and headed back to the radiator, where it was warm.

He looked at us with an expression that said, "You want me to go outside, are you sure, its cold and wet and I prefer to be here, thankyouverymuch."

We shut the door and he has stayed well away from the cold outside.

Winter time and cats will dine.

2010-11-13T16:35:00.004Z

The clocks have gone back an hour from Summer Time to standard GMT and the cats have noticed the difference.

Although it is lighter in the morning when we get up and it's dark when we get home from work. As a result, Stephen and Matilda only get to go out at weekends. We think they are coping and are spending more time sleeping, but some things have changed. They get a lot more affectionate in the evening and are consistently demanding to be stroked. And then they have decided as and when they should be fed. Even though we leave plenty of dry kibble down, as soon as we get through the door they want proper food. When we are about to go to sleep, they want proper food.

And then at three in the morning, they want food. It has been that way for the last few nights, each time at three in the morning, we somehow got woken up with pair of eyes looking hopefully at us for more food. Putting down extra food before we go to sleep does not appear to interest them, they want it when they say so.

I really need a good night's sleep.

Cats are not a convenience

2010-11-03T19:21:00.000Z

Thought for the day
Strangling me and then making me late is not a good way to show your affection...

This one requires a little background.

I'd been in a rush heading home from work, and naturally when I got in, I bent down to say hello to Matilda. Unfortunately I was still wearing my pass, which swung forward invitingly. Confronted by the dangling object Matilda did what cats do and leapt. For a moment I was choking, with a flailing cat hanging off my neck.

Fortunately the lanyard had a break away fitting and a momment later Matilda was on the ground on her back and looking very surprised. Then she realised the important thing - that she still had the dangly thingin her claws - and abruptly forgot her graceless landing as she went to town on it. Risking my fingers I extracted my pass from the mincing machine trying to devour it and put it safely aside in a cupboard she can't get to.

Fair enough, you might think. Next day at work I reach into my pocket for my pass which is, of course, still in the cupboard. I ended up standing on the doorstep until someone let me in, and trying not to think if this is how a cat feels.

Cat-o-dile tears?

2010-10-29T19:22:00.000+01:00

Thought for the day
How long until he learns this can be used to manipulate owners?

An interesting fact caame up when we were talking to the vet about Stephen. For a bit of background, Stephen's eyes run. He's had this problem since we got him, and wee noticeed it was worse when he got upset about something. The vet's locum prescribed eyedrops but they had little effect.

This time the vet had a look. It sems that, as we had been told, this is a side effect of cat flu. The signs are that he had it when he was very young, and mostly overcame it. However whenever he gets stressed or unhappy his eyes start to run.

It seems we have a cat who cries.

We also have orders from the vet to try to keep him happy and not stressed. We're interpreting this as spoiling him rotten, which Stephen does not seem to mind.

An annual check-up

2010-10-24T13:35:00.000+01:00

It seems hard to believe we've had them for a year, but we got the cats to the vet yesterday for their annual jabs.

Stephen, as always, strolled carefully out of his cage greeted by the vet's raised eyebrow and a comment of "My word". Apparently he is officially a big kitty. His weight, which had fluctuated from 7.5kg when we got him down to 6.3kg is now at around 7.1kg, and since he's now got much better muscle condition the vet thinks he should probably be stable at around 7kg. Stephen's eyes still run slightly when he is under stress, but apparently that's an after-effect of having had cat flu when he was young. As long as we keep an eye on it and keep his life stress-free, it should not be a problem. I think that's vet's orders to pamper him, but since Stephen's already throughly spoiled that shouldn't be too hard.

Matilda? Oh dear. Once again, the box was opened, tipped slightly, tipped more, shaken, placed on its open end, and finally disassembled. I am so glad we bought a cat basket with a removable top. She's now 4.3 kilos, up from 3.4 when we got her, and according to the vet that is the weight she should be. It does make me wonder slightly whether or not Stephen was stealing her food in the cat shelter, or if she just never quite got enough to eat, because she has definitely had a growth spurt since she's been with us.

The good news? They are healthy. The problems with their mouths have cleared up, they have no sign of fleas, they are both good weights and in very good condition. The vet is very pleased with their progress, which is always good to hear.

The saga of the litterbox: part one

2010-09-07T08:01:00.000+01:00

As you may remember because of Stephen's size, and habit of raising his rear when he uses the litterbox, we'd had to reduce and alter the litterbox arrangements.

They had one litterbox, the largest Van Ness box we could find, with its sides built up by additional plastic to a height of two feet. We couldn't add a second try, far less the ideal "one per cat plus one" because there wasn't anywhere else we could set up like that. None the less it was always supposed to be temporary.

We found our answer on zooplus, when a Maine Coon owner pointed us at a covered tray that worked for his ten kilo Maine Coon. It had a high top, and a carbon filter to reduce smells. Fingers crossed, we ordered one.

It duly arrived and left the cats fascinated by the box, which was huge. While they clawed at the wrappings, we stared a bit blankly and wondered where to put it. For the moment we settled on downstairs, and fished the object out, with help from the kitties.

It was huge. That was the definite first impression. The second was that it was easy to assemble. We filled it up, put the top on and waited nervously. Hopefully they'd like it, or we'd wasted quite a bit on money. Worse, they didn't seem to understand the flap, until I pushed it slightly. Once she knew it moved, Matilda dived straight in - and dug. And dug, and dug and dug.

The she lay down inside the new unused littertray for a snooze. I don't think she really understood what it was for.

Shortly afterwards, to our great relief - and that of Stephen sitting impatiently outside - she worked it out. The moment she was out Stephen was in. Success!

Matilda vs the Voile Panel

2010-09-04T13:51:00.006+01:00

Thought for the Day "Seven am? A flying cat? I must be dream - CRASH - What the?"

Matilda's war on the DIY continues unabated. I wasn't present for the action, just the aftermath, so I'll let the witness do the report:

Yes, it was seven am and while trying to wring the last bit of sleep I sleepily awoke to the sounds of cats running around. The next thing I saw through bleary eyes was a streak of tabby leaping over me, across the bed and then jumping heroically through the middle of two drawn curtains.

The voile panels were also drawn on the other side and Matilda caught them and dug in with all four paws. The curtain wire was good enough for the voile panels, but it was not designed to hold on to a rapidly accelerating cat at the same time and so down it came.

I blinked for a moment and then realised it was real life and not a dream, so I dashed across and looked to see what had happened. Matilda had vanished, typical ninja cat, but the hook had come out of the world, the wire was down and the voile panel needed a bit of fixing.

After a while Matilda appeared, none the worse for wear, and sniffed around again, I think she has learned her lesson. The voile panel was but up a bit later on, but she is now ignoring it and staying in a different room.

I'm just waiting for a fly to land on it and for her to have another go.

DIY and cats: Net curtains.

2010-09-03T08:16:00.001+01:00

Thought for the day
Currently commonly heard in the house: "Don't eat / climb / sleep on / sniff that!"

As we get further into the redecorating, it's been a surprise to realise how many little tweaks and accommodations you make for the cats. I don't just mean reorganising a room for a cat tree or waing war over the clawed carpet (to be honest we lost that one months ago). No, this is the future planning part of it.

In one window we were going to put up net curtains. The salesman promptly directed us to the latest style - seperated strands that hung from the top of the curtain. As I looked at it, all I could think of was Stephen - a cat to whom hanging threads will only ever mean string. If he pulled it down, he'd be wrapped in it by the time we got back, and if it stayed up... well there'd be a seven kilo kitty climbing some strands while he ate the one between them. There was, of course, only one answer "I'm sorry, we have cats."

So we bought a staid plain voile net. Just a large see-through curtain to hang on wires. What could go wrong?

The cats sniffed it a bit as we put it up, watched the procedings with great interest, and were shooed repeatedly away from curtain wire (which Stephen regards as long, flexible, string). We got the curtains up and looked at them proudly, and then Matilda wandered up for a sniff. She ran her nose along it, walked round it and found an edge. She sniffed up and down it and then decided she needed a sample...

"Don't eat that!" I think we both yelled it at the same time as she delicately opened her mouth and took a little taste. Should have remembered her philosophy in life: "Sniff it, lick it, eat it."

A little bit of bitter citrus spray on the edge has deterred her, but those curtains are now up for the long haul. There's no way we can take them back after Matilda munched them.

Thoughts on Matilda

2010-08-31T08:23:00.001+01:00

When she first arrived, Matilda was tiny - less than 3.5kg - and terrified. She didn't come out from under the bed for three days and she flinched if you went near her. What a difference six months makes.

She's now closer to 4.5kg and the vet has confirmed that's a healthy weight, even if she seems rather surprised that she can't fit in the hidyholes she used when she first arrived. She still jumps if there's a loud noise, and is wary around a sudden movement or a newspaper, but she doesn't flee anymore. Best of all, when she arrived she would cry in her sleep, huddle herself up in small balls to try and vanish. Now she purrs, when she's not snoring.

Catnip or stroking will produce the most phenomenal purr from such a small cat - so loud you can hear it in the other room. It does make you wonder about her background that sometimes she will just stretch on the bed and purr like a motor even when no one is near her.

A surprisingly agile cat, she loves climbing and insists on trying out branches that would give a squirrel pause. She nearly gave both owners heart attacks when she decided the best way to progress along a blocked branch was to monkey-swing upsidedown underneath it, pass the obstructon, and then pull herself upright the other side. Curtains, trees, furniture, there isn't much she won't climb or at least try to.

She will get to the chair before you and then roll over, hoping for a tickle or stroking before you sit down, and she's not a lap cat unless you put a cushion on your lap first, thank you very much!

She's still cautious about the outside, but that's coming with time. I think at least with Matilida, she's a very happy cat.

The downside, and there's always one, is the total lack of common sense: attempts to fling herself off the banisters to catch a fly, scent holly trees with her nose, eat envelopes or any form of sticky paper left out...she's quite a handful in her own right. She has also never understood No - or at least interprets it as "Not while they're watching."

A Smelly question

2010-08-26T07:41:00.001+01:00

Thought for the day
When you get cats, why doesn't anyone warn you they can be truly disgusting?

We've been noticing odd smells again, and for a while were concerned that the kitties had managed to find and hide some seafood around the place. Nope, but when we found the source it was disturbing...

One or other of them had dragged a catfood plate behind a curtain and built a stash there. I found it, and to spare the details it was unpleasant and quickly disposed of.

The other source of the smell is Matilda. When picked up there is an overwhelming whiff of fish about the kitty. Now, I will be honest and say that with the food stash gone, I am hoping the smell goes away quickly. The other option you see is to give her a bath. And giving a bath to a cat with the sobriquet "Ninja", twenty-six razorsharp claws that she keeps in tip-top condition, four of which are opposable, and a dislike of water intense even for a cat, is not something that either of us really want to do.

Baby talk or self defence?

2010-08-21T07:26:00.001+01:00

Thought for the day
Babytalk as a self defence technique

When I first got the cats I was determined not to use baby talk with them. The cats were quite capable of appreciating being called handsome and cute and understand the word "food".

That lasted all of five minutes, and not entirely because of the cuteness of cats. No, this had more to do with discovering what happens when two intelligent cats learn the words "food", "out", "water", "door" etc. In order to be able to use the words in everyday life without finding a cat right/by/the/door or miaowing for your lunch, we've fallen back on babytalk. It's easier.

Unfortunately they also know a few odd ones. "Vet" they are fine with, but spell it as "V-E-T" and two cats vanish. And then there's "NO!" which they understand but either ignore or misinterpret. After all if the owners get mad when they see the cats do something, its the cats' job to stop the owners seeing them do it...

Double teamed

2010-08-17T06:15:00.000+01:00

Thought for the day
If they ever really ganged up on me, I'd be in trouble...

When cats want to be somewhere, they can be very persistant. Take this morning, when I wandered into the kitchen to put the kettle on. I'm decidedly fuzzy brained before a tea, so it took me a moment to realise that it wasn't just my head that felt fuzzy. I look down, and there's Stephen looking up at me. He's looking round the kitchen where he's not supposed to be, and rubbing round my legs while he looks at everything.

So I call Stephen out of the room, and he comes obligingly. That is when I hear the "clunk" and a scrabble of claws, and turn round with a sinking feeling. Matilda has slunk in behind me, and is sitting watching proceedings with great interest from the kitchen worktop. Now she's not allowed on the side, and because she thinks "No" means "Not while someone's watching" she's not allowed in the kitchen unsupervised.

I put Stephen in a different room, closed the door and went back to retrieve Matilda. I coralled her, scooped her up off the side, and walked her out of the room, with a sigh of relief. Then I looked behind me. Stephen was sitting in the middle of the floor staring at me. I looked at the door that should have kept him in. Open. I'd forgotten he could do that.

Which is when Matilda decided she wanted down, and dug her claws in. I dropped her (in my defense when I checked afterwards I was bleeding). Of course, she turns round, heading straight for the kitchen. I shut the door very quickly and she gives me an evil look, and runs round the corner to wait and probably ambush me when the door opens. And, as I gather myself for the effort of chasing Stephen round the kitchen - this being the cat that can shut himself in cupboards and hide under plinths - the door gently opens.

Stephen has decided he doesn't like being shut in the kitchen and let himself out. He rubbed round my legs, managed a couple of soft churrups to express his displeasure and wandered off to the food dish. That's not the best bit, however.

The best bit was the look on Matilda's face when Stephen sauntered passed her after opening the kitchen door - a wonderful mix of exasperation, incredulity and outright envy. I really don't that she could believe that, after getting somewhere he wasn't supposed to be, he would let himself out. Particularly without letting her back in...

A missing person

2010-08-10T08:34:00.000+01:00

Thought for the day
At least they know us

Occassionally work takes one of us away overnight, and last night was no exception. R had to head in to work at 1 a.m. to investigate an issue. It was planned in advance so I wasn't worried. Unfortunately we did not think to run it past the cats...

R left, and about five minutes later I was woken by a worried "Mrup" and a concerned face inches from my own. Sleeping through Stephen standing on you isn't really possible, so I woke up. Half dozing I got up and noticed his food bowl was empty. Topped it up and there were two gulps and then he went down stairs. I ignored him so he ran back up, stared at me, and ran downstairs again. Kept trying to get me to follow him. I did, wondering if a door was open.

Nothing wrong down there. Stephen investigated every room, getting increasing agitated and then went upstairs and started doing the same. Which was when I realised he was looking for his missing owner. It was 3 a.m. alright? I wasn't exactly awake.

I gave him a quick stroke to settle him and went back to bed, at which point el feline decided to investigate under the covers to see if his owner was hiding there. He'd already checked the wardrobe and under the bed, but a cold kitty nose on my feet was not welcome.

I removed him, put him firmly on top of the covers and settled down to go back to sleep. Stephen gave me a look of supreme contempt that conveyed. "Stupid owner. Someone's missing." and then went off to his favourite rug to sulk.

Where was Matilda during all of this? Fast asleep in the wardrobe, completely unruffled. Sometimes I wonder which really is the smarter cat.

A devious impersonation act

2010-08-07T07:13:00.000+01:00

Thought for the day
Don't tell me cats don't know their names.

I've just put down Stephen's food, and he was eating happily, so I called Matilda for hers. She'd been on the windowsill last time I'd seen her.

Sure enough a cat's head appeared and began devouring the bowl contents, but something wasn't right.

"Stephen." Usually he'll back off shamefaced at that tone and his name. This time, munching continued. "Stephen." A little more of a warning, munching continued. "Matilda!" I called, getting ready to retrieve the plate once she finally turned up.

Stephen's head lifted, and there was this careful little "Mrup".

"Stephen you are not Matilda." "Mrup." And he promptly sat down by the bowl. Now Matilda has this habit of sitting down very precisely, flicking her tail exactly into position. Stephen just sprawls. Not this time. The paws came together precisely, the tail flicked neatly round and there was this confused "Mrup" - from a cat that never meows. This was when I caught on.

Now he does a very good Matilda impression, but the fact that he's twice her size and has different markings is a complete giveaway. Nonetheless, it was so funny I gave in. As a ploy to let him eat Matilda's food it worked. As a ploy to get more food, not so much: I fed her his.

Of course, once he'd finished he suddenly remembered he was Stephen, sprawled on the carpet and started washing himself.

Vanity is a feline saving virtue?

2010-08-05T08:11:00.000+01:00

Thought for the day
Mirror Mirror on the wall, who's the fluffiest of them all?

As background, we've been doing a bit of DIY, which involves extensive regrouting. The new sealant is watertight but has to set for 24 hours. For these twenty four hours, we obviously don't want the cat's anywhere near it. Tabby fur permanently adhered to walls may be a bold design statement, but not very attractive, and goodness knows what it would do to their insides if they licked it. Once we'd finished we shut the door and wedged it.

It took Stephen five minutes to climb the barricade and get in. I found him walking slowly towards the source of the very interesting smell and wasn't close enough to grab him. If I lunged, he'd run right into it.

I had a bright idea, fetched the small mirror off the shelf where it had been moved to and stood it on the floor where he could see it. I called him and he looked round without much interest. Then he saw the mirror.

Strange smell v. opportunity to preen? What to choose? There was a brief internal struggle as the tail lashed back and forth and then, with regal dignity, he turned and went for the mirror. Settling himself down in front of it, he surveyed the reflection and then pulled his paws in closer and straightened up, arching his neck. Once he was satisfied with his pose he peered at his face in the reflection and then started to wash one side of it industriously.

Bad Hair Day Postage by LisaMarieArt
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I took the opportunity to tie the door shut while he was outside, but don't tell me cats don't recognise themselves in mirrors. Ours uses it as a grooming aid!

Door opening

2010-08-02T10:16:00.004+01:00

Thought for the day
Why won't they do something cute when the camera is on them?

Stephen is now aware that he's not supposed to let himself into cupboards. (The deadbolts on all the ones he could reach are a small clue...)

I did manage to get a video of him working on the issue of a deadbolted door. Unfortunately all the training that he's not supposed to open them simply means he won't do it when I'm watching, making videoing him in the act difficult. He realised I was watching and didn't actually open it, but the problem solving inside the furry head is obvious.

His solution to the deadbolt on the one door was unexpected and we're going to be buying more locks.

That's right, if you can't get into one, open the one above it.

Why so desperate to get in? It's the laundry cupboard with vital supplies for his favourite pastime:

Full image on redgage

The ferminator - as good as they say?

2010-07-30T12:17:00.001+01:00

We'd heard a lot about the Furminator grooming brush. To be honest everyone raved about it, which in some ways made me even more sceptical. I mean, what's so good about it? Is it a magic brush? Can it do anything a normal brush doesn't? Can it somehow make my cats like being groomed? We finally cracked and bought one to find out.

I here and now apologise to the makers of the ferminator. It seems the answers to all the above questions was a resounding yes.

Both cats now beg to be groomed, which they certainly didn't before, and get quite upset when you stop. It gets a lot more fur (and a lot of garden bits) out of Stephen's thick fur without the hassle of the older brush, and leaves him looking sleek. He'd happily let you groom him bald if you tried. Matilda, who was never too keen on being brushed, will now comfortably flop and let you do her underside.

The only problem is that Stephen tends to grab the brush and rub his face all over it, and sometimes won't give it back which can make grooming him a little tricky.

So yes, if you can get it, this is definitely worth it for cats.

Furminator Deshedding Tool for Cats

A poor hunter - thank goodness

2010-07-27T08:07:00.000+01:00

Thought for the day
Some cats are useless hunters. Thank goodness.

This is a two incidents in one post, neither newsworthy by itself but together quite interesting. The first one occurred some days ago when I noticed the kitchen door open. We keep it closed, because cats that can open fridges and food cupboards don't need to be exposed to temptation.

Stephen was sitting there, saw me and looked up and something grey ran under the cooker. He turned, one paw swept out under the gap, and a small grey thing started running frantically round. My first thought was mouse, and I got the doors closed so it couldn't get out of the room. Stephen was chasing it at a leisurely, determined, pad. Reaching for the broom to catch it, I couldn't get a clear look, but noticed there was something wrong about the shape of the head. Changing my mind, I opened the back door and the thing ran out at speed while I grabbed Stephen just in case.

Some days later we got a good look at it, completely by surprise. We were watching Stephen in the garden when we saw somehing move. Stephen ignored it as it ran past and then stopped, almost right by him, to squat back and chew on a strawberry. Thinking thee was going to be a killing I put my shoes on and went to intervene, only to see something rather odd. Stephen was stalking it, but it would run briefly, then stop and sit. He'd stalk a bit closer and it would repeat the action. He was well within pouncing distance, and they did this all the way across the garden until it vanished into the hedge. I don't honestly think he knew what to do with it.

wanna be my friend ? by EMangl
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The creature in question is a vole, and it seems we have a nest at the bottom of the garden. Since they are far from the house (barring act of cat) and many of the vole species are endangered we're leaving them. With foxes and owls around, they are going to have enough problems as it is, even without our two inept hunters complicating matters. Although, if they act like that around a cat the size of Stephen, it's not a surprise that they are endangered.

Water, water, everywhere and what a naughty cat

2010-07-23T12:03:00.000+01:00

A while back we got one of these Petmate Pet Fountain for the cats, having heard that cats loved them and they came highly recommended.

This was not entirely about spoiling the cats. Our decision was partly due to Stephen's habit of turning on the lever taps to get extra water (despite having multiple bowls down) and leaving it running, costing us a fortune in water.

Initial impressions weren't promising. When we opened the box, both cats fled and my eyes started watering. The item stunk, there is no other way to say it. It was exiled to the garage, with a kettle and warm soap water to clean it. It took a few days to get it to smell slightly less as though something had died in it (the smell turned out to be one of the power cables, which we promptly replaced from our spares box) and it was gingerly brought inside.

We filled it, and put it down. At first there was no interest. For a day or so the cats avoided it studiously, although the water level dropped suspiciously. Eventually Matilda cracked and began happily lapping at the water in front of us, trying out all the bowls.

Stephen on the other hand seemed to avoid it, and Matilda would not use it after he'd been near it. Then we found out he likes standing in the bowl and drinking out of the top water fountain. The splashs and wet footprints he leaves are a mild annoyance. What is truly amazing is the amount of fur he can leave in the filter. Usually this machine is silent. You can tell when he's been playing from the sound the motor makes.

Even this isn't so bad. What drove me truly up the wall is when he decided to make soup by dropping biscuits and cat food in it.

Thoughts on Stephen

2010-07-21T11:39:00.000+01:00

This is more a set of observations over time than a single specific item. In some ways I do feel sorry for Stephen. He's a big cat, and because of that a lot of the normal expectations about cats needed adjusting. He can't do many of the things that normal cats do inside because he is simply too big.

When he first went outside he would simply run from one end of the garden to the other. He still does it. Indoors there simply isn't the room for him to get up to full speed, and since he came from a smaller location than ours, I have to wonder if he'd never run flat out before.

Cat toys? We've had to get a giant-sized mouse and fill it with catnip because he can eat the conventional ones at a gulp. The same is true of other cat toys - they are simply too small.

Scratching posts are an ongoing problem. The first one he could actually lift up, which was a shock when it happened. The second dragged along the floor when he tried to scratch. We tried a huge cat tree with a built in scratching post and while Matilda loves it, Stephen is actually capable of pulling it over - just by scratching.

His litterbox was meant for "medium dog". To get a covered one we'd need a storage drum with a side cut out because they just don;t make them in that size.

Why go to all this effort? Because it's like having a huge furry overgrown kitten. There are so many things he had never seen when he came to us: leaves, birds, stairs for a few. He'd never walked on grass or climbed a tree. We're getting to see him discover all this for the very first time. Even now, after all these months, we still occassionally run into something he hasn't done, or doesn't know. Watching him discover butterflies and ants only a few weeks ago was wonderful, not least because he kept running back and forth between us and the ants' nest proudly, trying to show off what he'd discovered.

Even if he can rip through boxes, tear up carpet and open locks, I am still very glad we adopted him. I just need to keep the cat-proofing one step ahead...

Most unpleasant

2010-07-19T07:32:00.003+01:00

Because I have cats, I just had one of the most revolting encounters of my life - and I can't even blame them because it wasn't exactly their fault.

I went to feed them, pulled the pouch out of the box and wondered about the white sticky stuff on the outside. I tried to wash it off, with no luck, and noticed it was sticking to my fingers. Giving up I threw the packet away, and scrubbed my fingers. Then, noting the sweet sticky smell was still present, I resorted to TCP and then surgical spirit which, between them, finally shifted it.

I fed the cats from a different box and went back to investigate the first one. One the outside was what looked like water damage and combined with the distinctive smell, my first thought was washing powder. Then I took a look inside and carefully shuffled the packets around. The bottom of the box was an inch deep in fuzzy grey fur, and it wasn't Stephen or Matilda's.

I can only think one of the packs had ruptured and the spill had had the time to go mouldy. For an instant, I considered taking it back to Tesco for a refund. Then common sense took over, and it went straight in the outside bin.

Considering the cats had been treating it like toxic waste I think I made the right choice. They could probably smell it. Now it's gone, they are back at the food cupboard trying to work on the deadbolt again.

Back to business as usual - like working out where the mysterious small of crayfish is coming from and why the cats keep guarding the bathroom...

Catnip vs Milk drops.

2010-07-16T12:44:00.000+01:00

Thought for the day
Typical - just typical

I noticed the Goodgirl treats they liked also came in mildrop flavours. Since they liked the Catnip Drops so much, I picked some up.

They won't touch them. If they are given a few with the catnip ones they eat round them carefully. I actually got to watch Matilda carefully spit one back onto the floor after moving it to get at the catnip treat underneath.

Honestly.

Busted!

2010-07-16T12:21:00.001+01:00

Thought for the day...
You were caught red-pawed. Why are you still trying to play innocent? And why are you so good at it.

In my last post I mentioned Whiskas Sticks, a treat which is kept carefully concealed in the house, due to the hisses, fights and feline swearing that can erupt when two cats go for the same treat.

I gave them each one earlier, shut them in seperate rooms, and when I opened the door discovered Stephen hadn't finished his. Since Matilda had done a run around my feet and dived for it in the two seconds it took me to register this, I scooped it up, wrapped it, and put it on a high shelf. They are only allowed one a day and she had already eaten (inhaled?) hers. Satisfied it was safe I went back to work.

There was this odd noise...

...something like a faint huffing and rustling. No, thought I, she can't climb up to that shelf. The noise continued, and I went to investigate.

She can't climb the shelf. She can climb the curtain some feet away and try a jump - or more precisely a Lara-croft-style backflip and twist. There hung Matilda, front paws on the shelf, trying to scrabble her way up or possibly knock the sweet down, and then she saw me. There was a moment when she gathered her regal dignity (unsuccessfully since her back legs were still dangling) and gave me a look that said plainly "I'm just up here, nothing to do with the sweet, you can move along." I started laughing, and she let go, landed daintily, gave herself a quick lick and stalked off.

The treat has gone somewhere safe - back to Stephen who's asleep on it. However, I am still keeping a very close eye on a very miffed Matilda. A very smart cat, but with no common sense whatsoever.

Catnip treats - a mystery solved

2010-07-12T11:42:00.001+01:00

Ever since we've had the cats, if you rustle any kind of small plastic bag - rice, sweets, even on one occassion washers - they are there. After working out it's not for them they then wander off, depressed and leaving their owners feeling really guilty. It was obvious that their former owners had given them some ind of treat in that kind of bag, but we couldn't work out what it was.

Dentibits? No interest. Kitzyme? Chase it yes, eat it no. Chicken treats? Turned their noses up. Whiskas Salmon Sticks
provoked an all out brawl and are now dispensed in seperate rooms with both of us overseeing, but obviously weren't small biscuits in a plastic bag.

We found it. By complete chance, I saw a treat on sale while getting a few supplies from the petshop and picked it up as something different. When I went home and put a few down for them, two cats went nuts. I was hit round the ankles for not giving them enough (which resulted in Stephen getting a tap on the nose and a warning).

The magic treats? Armitage Good Girl Catnip Drops 50g I suppose it shouldn't be a suprise, giving the way they both react to catnip. We've settled into a routine where they get a few a day, which keeps them happy and healthy (even if it says free feed, I really don;t want to put them off their food).

The other good thing about this? These treats have proved a most effective bribe when we need them to stop doing something. Leverage over the cats - at long last!

Cats and eggs

2010-07-10T14:40:00.000+01:00

We put a bit of egg yolk down for them. Unlike my last long haired cat, its not essential, but it is good for their coats and gives them a bit of a treat. There was some sniffing, and then studiously both cats ignored it. The temperature yesterday was boiling, and we forgot to pick it up. Today we came back and let ourselves in the back way because the front doorhandle is too hot to touch, and caught them.

Apparently only fresh egg is disgusting. Day-old congealed egg is kitty heaven.

We shall leave the tabbies outside under the trees, where they escaped to before I could clean them off, licking the yellow evil-smelling mess off their whiskers. Why do I suspect they will be very ill later on?

Why can't they stick to normal prey?

2010-07-08T07:54:00.001+01:00

Thought for the day?
Completely unprintable

Most cats kill birds, mice, insects or leaves.

Mine just killed my computer chair.

The result of the high energy food has been a higher than usual level of rampage, since Stephen loves it, and Matilda steals it since he's not allowed to have anything she can't have. After much trampling of floorboards and curtain climbing, this culminated in Matilda on the back of my chair hissing while Stephen was on the seat pawing at her, and bobbing up onto his hind legs. Over the cat noise, there was this ominous creaking...

And then a snap!

Yes, somehow the cats had managed to snap the seat and back off the base. Not just the plastic either - the metal pole had completely given way. As the seat sloped alarmingly two tabby blurs shot into the next room, and when I looked in they were both in their most innocent poses on the end of the bed, trying to pretend they had just woken up.

The seat's unsalvageable, so I'm on a folding chair until I can get it replaced.

I wonder if household insurance covers act of cat?

High energy kitty a.k.a "Duck and run"

2010-07-07T10:30:00.000+01:00

To get Stephen's weight up the V-E-T recommended special food: high calorie, high energy. He wouldn't eat it, so we tried alternatives. We did find one that Mr Picky would eat, and Matilda would steal, but we also found one problem:

High energy food + Cats = High energy cats

Clawed curtains, shredded wallpaper, much chasing and two broken chairs. With this much energy, how's he ever going to put on weight?

And can our house survive it?

A problem with locks

2010-07-06T12:38:00.000+01:00

Thought for the day
Thank goodness cats can't pick locks, or use WD40

You may remember that due to Stephen's habit of opening cupboards and doors (and sometimes shutting himself in deliberately) we added deadbolts and hook and eye catches to numerous doors though the house. After his accident with the boiler cupboard we fitted them almost universally.

Today I went to let him out, turned the key and heard an odd mechanical sound, like metal grating. I looked down to the deadbolt, a large iron thing fitted by the previous owner. There was a paw on it.

Stephen was sitting by it, staring at it with one paw on top, and trying to lift the bolt. I am very, very, grateful the bolt is very stiff, and that the little projecting nub is too small to get his shoulder underneath and raise. I am also grateful that we fitted most of the deadbolts out of feline reach just in case.

What I am even more grateful for? He hasn't worked out keys yet.

We might have to add padlocks to a few of the deadbolts.

A poly paw...

2010-06-28T06:32:00.000+01:00

I finally got a shot of it:

Stephen's paw. Yes, both those outer claws are fully opposable, which might explain why we're fiting deadbolts everywhere and having to change bins.

...and feline larder part 3

2010-06-27T11:10:00.000+01:00

Got back from the shops. Found the cats had been sick everywhere.

Since I'd taken away their kibble larder they'd managed to get into the kitchen after our lunch. They have gleefully unwrapped and devoured a wedge of brie. To put things bluntly, it disagreed with them.

They are now sunning themselves outside and the bleach is out for the second time in two days. Thanks moggies.

This is definitely revenge for the vet trip.

Feline larder part two

2010-06-27T09:21:00.001+01:00

Thought for the day...
Cute or not, they're dead meat!

The smell of fish has finally subsided, driven out by large amounts of bleah and airing. So, thought I, today will be quiet. They can't pull something like this twice.

I saw a T-shirt on the floor and thought, "Oh that shouldn't be there" and picked it up. Kibble explosion.

Since their little food caches had been removed the kitties had decided to drag one of their biscuis plates under the bed and then cover it with a T-shirt to stop the evil owners from removing it. When I shook the T-shirt more kibble fell out.

The T-shirt is in the wash, the biscuits are being swept up and the carpet is being cleaned. Where has this bad behaviour come from? They get fed frequently, they've got biscuits down to free graze and they've got water and even a water fountain (bought to stop Stephen turning the bath's lever tap on). If they were a bit smarter I'd think it was revenge for the vet.

A feline larder - and gasious warfare

2010-06-26T12:05:00.000+01:00

Thought for the day...
It's a good thing they're cute, or I'd kill them.

I love my cats. I just have to keep reminding myself that I really love my cats, even when they don't realise they've done anything wrong.

Last night we went to sleep blissfully unaware of the plot underway by the fiendish felines. The morning we woke up to a vague sense of "what's that smell?", cleaned the litterbox and thought all was right with the world. We even went out shopping.

Then we got back and opened the door. Eyes watering, choking, we dived indoors and frantically opened windows. Two cats watched innocently, looking proud of themselves. No, the litterbox hadn't been used. Neither of them had been sick. It was worse.

Last night we had had crayfish tails and salad as a light snack. It was too hot for anything else. We were called away briefly before we took the empty plates to the kitchen and cleaned up. During that brief distraction the cats must have chosen to strike. They have hidden crayfish tails all around the house. I've found some in their bed, some under our bed, some in their foodbowl, and I am sure that's not all of it.

The windows are open in the hope that once the smell clears we can track the remainder down by scent. Meanwhile we just need to deal with it clearing enough to get to work with the bleach.

If they weren't so cute, I'd kill them.

Not undersized

2010-06-23T07:44:00.001+01:00

Since the vet said Stephen was underweight (at 6.9kg) and that he was one of the biggest cats he'd ever seen, when I found the furry thing asleep I thought I'd measure him.

and yes, that is the two foot mark you can see.

Springboard time

2010-06-19T15:00:00.001+01:00

We think Matilda has recovered. 1 medium size kitty on 20 fine claws just bounced off their owner causing much whimpering.

Matilda decided to jump from the windowsill onto her owner and then bounce onto the PC desk letting her settle into one of her favourite hiding spots. The owner was not so happy with being used as a springboard with all sets of claws out and going through a sturdy pair of jeans.

Teeth and food and kitties

2010-06-18T06:57:00.001+01:00

It's been a rough two days with them. They went in to have their teeth cleaned for the first time with us, only to find it was the first time; full stop. Highlights were the cats panicking and eating carpet fluff when we took the food away, and thinking we were returning them to the cattery when they were put in cages.

They have both had tooth extractions. Apparently their previous owners had not taken them to the vet, and these problems had been brewing for years. While they were at the shelter Matilda had already had three teeth out, and was under observation for more. Stephen apparently had the same condition in his back teeth. This issue started long before we came on the scene, but I still feel a bit guilty that they've had sore mouths and I didn't notice.

Now they are back here, they haven't forgiven us, even after Spike ate six pouches of food. (How a cat can be underweight at 6.9KG I don't know, but we need to get him up to 7.5). What is disturbing is a bubbling sound they make when they purr. The vet says its a side effect of intubation and will vanish after a few days. Matilda is making some outstandingly weird noises, and earning the nickname R2-D2. They are also on wet food only for five days, which Stephen loves and Matilda hates. She's spent the last day hunting for her dry kibble.

What we could have done without? Stephen lying in his cat food while he was asleep and then resising all attempts to clean him off. What made it worse? Beef jelly and tabby fur are nearly the same colour.

Guilty Feelings

2010-06-17T11:38:00.004+01:00

Well getting our two monarchs into their cages was easier than expected, only two piles of books were knocked over, and the journey to the vet was simple. We had arranged for a pet taxi to make it easy for them, which they seemed to appreciate.

At the vets, they got a pre-check to make sure they were healthy.

Matilda decided she did not want to come out. No amount of coaxing or reaching in would do. Instead we had to disassemble the cage to get her out. Once out, of course, she was looking around at everything with great curiousity. When we had finished, she dived straight back in to her cage for safety.

Stephen was quite relieved to get out of the cage and was calm and quiet, up until the vet had to take his temperature. Sensing what was happening next, he sat on my lap and poked his head into my coat as if to say that if he could not see it, it wasn't happening. Of course, once we had finished, he then didn't want to go back into his cage.

And then finally, we had to leave. Why is leaving them behind so hard?

I know they are safe, will be treated well and it will all be over in just a few hours. So why do I feel so guilty, and keep thinking of all the things that can go wrong?

Update from other owner:
I have it on good authority that the nurse getting Matilda out of the cage went like this.
"We'll open the door and she'll walk out..."
"We'll just tip the cage a little to encourage her and she'll come out..."
"We'll tip the cage upside down and she'll come out..."
"We'll just take the box apart."

And Stephen is officially the third or fourth largest cat the vet has seen. The breakaway paper collars with their names on? He took two joined to get round his neck.

Two miserable cats

2010-06-16T20:22:00.003+01:00

The Vet trip is tomorrow and as descaling teeth requires both cats to be put under anaesthetic, you have to take all their food up the night before and their water in the morning. In other words, "Nil by Mouth" for cats.

Since the plates of the last meal and their kibble came up, they have been looking round to try and find them. Then we get the accusing glances as anything else that could be considered food is moved out of kitty reach. All the bins have been emptied and the kitchen door firmly shut. They know something is wrong.

Our problem is that as rescue cats, we don't know their background, we don't know how they will react to this or what they are used to. All we can do is try and make it as easy as possible for them.

Cats, and writing, and computers - oh my!

2010-06-13T09:51:00.000+01:00

Thought for the day
Writing with a cat on your lap is relaxing right up until the out-stretched paw moves towards the power button

If you follow my other blog you might have noticed a small project (book deal!) taking up my every waking moment right now.

The cats have certainly noticed. I think they got the clue when I picked Stephen up, threw him over one shoulder and waltzed with him while saying "My book's going to be published!". When I put him down, rather rumpled and uncertainly purring, he was quite clearly wondering if I had gone crazy. Since then they have regarded anything to do with the book with great suspicion.

They are also not making writing very easy, as one of them has a favourite perch on top of the computer and the other one, not to be outdone, has decided that his favourite position is on me. It is amazing how quickly two cats can kill a computer when they snuggle up against its hot air vent.

An Upcoming Vet trip

2010-06-10T19:31:00.003+01:00

They don't know it yet, but they have both been booked into the Vet to get their teeth scaled. They both need it doing, but this is the first time with us they will have the procedure done.

Yes, we are worried about complications that can occur with them being anesthetized, but leaving a cat's teeth to get worse is not fair on the cat.

So it will be drop them off in the morning, collect them in the afternoon, pamper them for the rest of the evening and the following day. With luck, they will be much happier after the event

A shocking experience (an open letter)

2010-05-12T13:12:00.000+01:00

Dear Matilda,

I am aware that one of your favourite locations is perched on top of my PC. I know that you like to roll around and rub yourself on the metal frame to get comfortable because it is warm and vibrates slightly. You even discovered a side effect and a way to neutralise it.

I understand you may not enjoy that crackly feeling in your fur, and have found a way of getting rid of it. However, sneaking a paw silently onto the person sitting down by the PC (normally me) whose feet are on the floor is not funny.

Particularly not when you start setting traps. I will be typing away and look down to see a paw hovering above my arm, with two wide eyes staring up at me innocently. Then the paw jabs forward and I get an electric shock. From the sudden purr as you settle yourself back down, I have to think you are doing this deliberately.

Congratulations on being the first cat to discover electricity. Now please use it on lightbulbs, not me.

Regards,

Your (shocked) owner

Matilda does it again!

2010-05-05T09:32:00.000+01:00

Her second featured photo: Matilda on a chair, half-asleep

It's official: I have a very cute cat.

She's even been known to pose when she sees a camera. Stephen stops what he's doing and runs across to see what I'm doing - not so useful when you are trying to take a photo of him.

A lot of trouble

2010-04-25T06:52:00.001+01:00

No thought for the day - this is not a funny update unfortunately.

Never underestimate how much trouble an intelligent cat with opposable dew claws and no common sense can get into.

In summary: Stephen opens cupboards. He managed to open the boiler cupboard and fell down behind the immersion heater. He was trapped upside down between the water tank and the wall. I couldn't get him out, or get through the side of the cupboard, and the tank is part of the house and not moveable.

With the aid of a towel, an axe, and much scrabbling he is now out, but he was there for half an hour to an hour, and is being watched closely. He'd overheated so I kept soaking my hands and stroking him since he objected to a wet towel, and it seems to have done the trick. We phoned the vet, who advised us not to traumatise him further by bringing him in (it's a long way) until tomorrow unless certain symptoms show.

He's finally stopped panting and had wet food and lots of water, but he's torn up his paws and terrified himself. I think we both had a nasty shock.

His other owner came back from work as soon as he heard, but got back only in time to phone the vet and confirm what I had been told.

I'm posting about this now because it happened Friday afternoon, and hopefully he's now out of danger.

He's also trying to get into the boiler cupboard again. We're fitting deadbolts this morning.

(The fun bit was the DIY shop, where the lady sees all the locks and asks if you're childproofing the house, and you have to respond "No. Cat-proofing." I think she thought I was mad.)

A voluntary bath

2010-04-23T08:37:00.001+01:00

Thought for the day
I thought cats were meant to hate water

After Matilda's little mistake in the bath, it seems it was the other one's turn this morning.

I had started to run a bath, when the phone rang. I turned the tap off, answered it, said a few polite and then a few rather sharp words to a telemarketer. Then, as I put the phone down, I heard a splash.

I went through, thinking I would see a levitating cat again - or possibly no cat and fur floating on water. No. There was fur floating on water, and a cat in the middle of it, looking up at me. Stephen was happily splashing around in my bath.

He gave me a very unrepentant look and jumped out of the bath, clearing the side in a bound. Fastidiously he wiped his paws dry on the nearest bit of material - my clean clothes - and then santered out of the bathroom, head high.

I had to re-run the bath to get the fur out. Thanks cat - the least you could have done was to look a little guilty. Why couldn't you hate water as much as your sister?

All for the convenience

2010-04-22T06:36:00.001+01:00

I may have mentioned before that Stephen is a bright cat with a low boredom threshold. I think I've also mentioned his love of convenience when lazing.

A few days I was typing some work up, and Stephen was lying in his bed, looking bored. He jumped up and went across the room to get some food, drawing my attention by the creaking floorboards. Then he stopped, looked at his bed, looked at the food dish. Looked at the bed.

Sensing he was planing something, I stopped writing and started watching him. He tried to take the end of the plate in his mouth and lift, and then hastily dropped it as he realised that kibble rolls downhill. Then he walked round the plate looking at it. Since the kibble had moved away he put a paw onto the plate and stepped forward for some more munchies - probably hoping it was brain-food.

As he finished he turned, looking a bit miserable, and his paw hit the lip of the bowl. It moved. The kitty head turned back. Claws came out (yes you can see them at a distance - there is a reason we call them meathooks) and he gave the bowl an experiemental tug. It moved.

So he turned and walked backwards to his bed, towing his foodbowl behind him. He stopped when it was right by the bed, curled up and got comfortable and then decided it was too much trouble to even lift his head to eat. He stretched out from where he was lying on his side, put his cheek fur and whiskers on the side into the food, and chewed away idly.

I should get upset about the mess he's going to make since the food isn't on the newspaper, but watching him problem solve was too much fun. We use food bowls with rounded bottoms, or he'd never have managed to drag them - I'm not sure I have the heart to replace them with ones with rims underneath. He's just so proud of himself.

I just wish I could get him on video doing some of this, but the moment I grab a camera he stops whatever it is and rushes across to see what I am doing.

A damp squib...

2010-04-17T06:22:00.002+01:00

So, yesterday was the normal rush to get up, washed dressed and out for work on a Friday, looking forward to the weekend, no idea that this morning any feline would decide to do something not bright...

And then, from the bathroom came this strange noise. It sounded a little like fingernails on a blackboard, then frantic scrabbling and then a splash. I ran through to see what was happening in time to see Matilda in mid-air over the bath. All four paws hit the floor in front of me, slipped and scrabbled for purchase on the tiles, and then she was gone. I turned to see only a trail of wet footprints and water drops leading into the bedroom.

When I got to the bedroom I was confronted by a creature of truly fiendish appearance. Tail up like a bottle brush, eyes wide, ears back, fur on end, Stephen had realised something was wrong and was standing ready to repel the intruder. He seemed rather confused to see me, and a curious ear quirked. Then he sidled sideways, still watching the door in case I was also fleeing whatever had spooked Matilda, and let me look under the bed.

These two indignant yellow eyes looked back at me out of wet, bedraggled, tabby fur. As I tried not to laugh she gave me a very sullen look and turned her back on me. I left her to clean herself up.

WET by wildmog
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Matilda likes walking along the side of the bath. This time she must have got it wrong and fallen in.What I don't understand is how she got that wet; there was only an inch of water in it.

An open letter about bathrooms

2010-04-08T06:50:00.001+01:00

Dear Felines,

I have a small issue to bring up to you - specifically that of a complete double standard you seem to hold. When I walk into the room while you are in the litter tray you stop and glare at me until I leave. As you like the tray in a secluded corner, under normal circumstances I don't know you are using it until I walk in. Less normal circumstances, where I can tell by being in the same house, have hopefully been eliminated by changing your diet.

However when I am in the bathroom, all I get to hear are meows and scratchings on the door outside. Now if you don't want to be disturbed, why do you think I want to be? Also Master Stephen's ability to open blinds and windows is indeed very skilled and must be applauded - in the right time and place.

And finally, pretending you have not been in the bath, and in fact hate the white, water containing device of evil, would be more successful if the bath did not have a layer of fur in it. You may say that fur is circumstantial evidence, but unfortunately the muddy paw prints are rather more conclusive.

Regards,
The one who has to clean the bath - again.

A bad thing

2010-04-01T17:47:00.000+01:00

Thought for the day
Catnip must be handled with care

I did a bad thing.

When refilling the catnip mouse I spilt a little, just a tiny, tiny touch, of dried catnip on the carpet. Cat owners can probably guess what happened next.

I put the mouse down where I'd spilled the catnip to mark the spot (as I said it was a tiny amount and I could not see it on the carpet). When I came back Matilda had just finished giving the mouse a perfunctory sniff before she batted it to one side and got to work on the interesting smell. Sniffing it, and rubbing her face against it, was not enough. She licked it, and promptly jumped back with a look of disgust trying to get carpet fluff off her tongue.

Then she walked round it, sniffed carefully and set to work digging through the carpet. Obviously she had decided that whatever smelled so good had to be under the surface that tasted so bad, and by Jove she was going to get to it.

Fortunately before she could get through to the underlay the catnip had gone to work, and she'd forgotten what she was doing. So she settled for walking round in a circle twice, falling over and licking Stephen's head when he came to sniff the carpet in case he had any catnip on him.

Unfortunately she is still lying on the bit where I spilled the catnip, so I'm leaving her to sleep it off before I finish the clean up job.

A late night wake up call.

2010-03-28T06:36:00.000+01:00

It was one of the nights when you just can't sleep. We were both staring at the wall, trying to nod off when, at about 3:20am I said the fatal words. "I'm bored."

At 3:23 am - and this I can be precise on - there was the noise of a cat being violently sick. All over the hall.

On investigation he had done it again. Stephen had eaten his food, Matilda's food, both kibble bowls (which only contain enough for one cat between them) and raided the bin for yesterday's food. After eating all of this, he was now sitting bright eyed and bushy tailed on the end of the bed demanding more food.

We gave up. The worst of it got scraped up, and the cleaning job will be done in the morning. But who on earth would have thought a cat could work out a pedal bin?

Cat-related injuries (not what you'd think...)

2010-03-23T08:57:00.000Z

A small crosspost from my blog: I've been feeling a bit light headed all day. Despite that I got everything done and finally slumped in front of my PC about half an hour ago. Which was when I touched my head and pulled away a red hand. And then I remembered what I'd done at the weekend and that there was a reason I should be taking it easy.

Hearing what I thought was one of the cats getting into a fight, I dashed off to retrieve him. If there's going to be a confrontation it's usually Stephen as Matilda is still too shy to do more than stick her head outdoors. I managed to get him back through the fence and grabbed him. As I straightened up, hampered by a twenty *ahem* pound cat, I stepped back to keep my balance. Which was when the chestnut tree walloped me in the head with a sizeable branch as the other cat jumped out of it.

I have a nice raised red line across my forehead, an onimous grey shadow behind it, and apparently scrapes to the scalp which I just found the messy way. In the future I should probably avoid cats and gardens.

Stephen? He's by the back door trying to figure out the deadbolt. Thank heavens we have a second lock on it...

More photos

2010-03-11T11:57:00.001Z

Apologies - due to my being under the weather this blog has not been updated recently. I do have at least three spectacular misadventures to report (including Stephen miaowing furiously to be let in - to the wrong house). For the moment however, here is a moment of cuteness from Matilda.

The Queen of Cushions decided that since her usual sleeping spot, atop my PC, was unavailable she would simply steal another one. This did involve knocking the papers I was working on all over the floor, but she is cute enough to get away with it.

And kitties get more expensive...

2010-02-28T06:53:00.003Z

This post may read like a cat food ad - however if anyone knows how to get the fussy little things to actually eat cheap cat food, please give me a hint.

At Christmas we gave them Felix pouches as a treat: they love them, and as we mentioned they won't eat anything you'd normally give a cat as a treat. We switched the Terrible Two back to own-brand from then on, which they usually liked and indeed devoured in prodigious quantities.

After a while we noticed they seemed to lack energy, and were looking a little listless, so when Felix went on offer we gave them that for a few days to cheer them up. Immediately they both perked up. Then we ran out, went back to the cat food and slowly their energy levels dropped again, which was when we both realised what was causing it.

So, since it seems to be a health issue, we're busy hunting round for any deals we can find for Felix pouches. It may be a lot more expensive, but it is better for them. On the other hand, as the felix puches are meant to be three a day, rather than 4-5 for the own brand we might make a slight saving there - except that the first time we put it back down for them Stephen gorged on every scrap of it and made himself sick. Definitely stated his preferences, however.

Why can't they be normal cats and just eat tinned food?

And what exactly is Felix putting in its food? Kitty-caffiene?

Skid Stops

2010-02-23T16:23:00.002Z

So, as they are wont to do, Stephen and Matilda were re-fighting the civil war round our house. This usually involves chasing each other at high speed round the place, climbing on or knocking over anything not nailed down - the reason all our breakables are now safely in drawers. High shelves unfortunately proved not high enough since Matilda is a climber.

I ignored them, as I try to do, and shut myself in the office. This worked, right up until the enormous crash, and sound of shrapnel in the hall. It sounded like a machine gun going off. Forget ignoring it, I was up and looking around outside to see what they had done. It was quite a sight. They had obviously been chasing each other when his skid stop had gone badly wrong.

Stephen was standing there with the guiltiest look I have ever seen on a cat's face. A little down the hall was Matilda, also staring at me with a frankly horrified expression.

All four of Stephen's paws were in his food dish. The food dish that was three feet further from where it should be and halfway into their upset biscuit plate. Kibble was everywhere. I looked at Stephen. Stephen looked at me. There was a pause, and then Stephen gulped.

I collapsed laughing. I'm sorry, but the sight of this apologetic, worried-looking cat, standing in his food bowl, wet food splashed up his chest and paws, right in the middle of a kibble explosion was simply classic.

The only thing I regret? When I turned my back for the camera, both cats dived under the bed. Its been very quiet since, apart from the noise of industrious licking.