Iggy

normal spotted Bengal
born 28 August 1998
died August 2012 

Iggy is a cat with gravitas – there’s something of the elder statesman about him. He is supposed to be head cat, but he doesn’t seem very good at it these days … he had a bad year in 2000, losing two of his nine lives (one to a severe respiratory infection, and one to a nasty incident where he appears to have been locked in a shed, and had to break out), and he’s turned into much more of a home cat since then.

He has a magnificent spotty tummy, which must be scritched (frequently) upon demand, and is inclined to lop an ear if he doesn’t get what he wants to eat. And he’s pretty fussy about what he eats – he really only likes ox cheek, but won’t even eat that if he has the slightest suspicion that there is wafer thin turkey in the fridge. Tuna and salmon will do in an emergency, as well.

Iggy hates to be picked up, and will rowl in a mournful manner if you do so, which is a huge shame – he’s a big cat, with a glorious thick coat, and would be wonderful to cuddle. In fact, he’s exceedingly good at mournful, and if you do something that upsets him, he will look at you more in sorrow than in anger (and then is quite likely to go and thwip something off a shelf out of temper).

He’s a beautiful animal, and when you watch him loping along the path, you really can see the wild blood in him. He has glorious golden eyes, and frequently wears a rather confused expression; it took us about three years to realise that this is just a ploy; in fact he’s extremely clever, and very manipulative. But then, after all, he is a cat …