Warm weather has arrived in Kingston-upon-Hull at last, and we have spent some time in clearing up the back yard, which was a tad overgrown and weedy.
It’s hard for the Tribe – they’ve come from a rural environment, with a stream and trees, and have had to settle into an urban one, where we have no proper garden, and many other cats have established territory. It’s taken them a while, but they’re OK now, I think – Iggy has had a few confrontations, and come home with a fat tail, but he seems settled now, and goes about his area, beating up any cat who gets in his way, as is only right and proper. Lilith and Mustrum now seem fine too, and EnRon – well, they’re bombproof, nothing phases them as long as they have full bowls!
So for the last couple of days it’s been sunny, and the house and the yard have warmed up; and of course, now we’ve cleared the weeds, put down some slabs, etc., it’s nicer for all of us to be in. We have a little bit of flat roof – not much, about 5-6 feet, I guess, which is the kitchen extension, and we always thought the spotty boys would like it up there, as they were very fond of snoozing on the garage roof in Long Ashton. Today, at last, they were up there, enjoying the sunshine – one at each end, studiously ignoring each other, and both rowling and squeaking for attention; sadly, we can’t reach them up there so they had to go without. A bit later, I saw Henry up there, duffing up Mustrum.
Normal service appears to have been resumed.
I think they were protesting our culpability at letting it rain outside at this point. That and the utterly inadequate and, what’s more, inedible supplies of food downstairs.
We have a large bedroom here, with two tall, south facing windows, so the sun streams in there during the day (when it shines at all, of course). We set a chair that is very like, but is not, an Ikea Poang by one of the windows – it’s a nice quiet place if one of us wants to read or listen to music. And we assumed that the Tribe would love the chair, and bask in it during the sunlit afternoons.
But no – they never went near it, not even when I put one of their cat rugs on it.
I try very hard not to dump stuff on the chair, but a few days ago I left my swimming bag on there. And the next morning, when I got up, I most definitely didn’t see Iggy and Lily on the chair. No sirree Bob. Nor, at various times, have we seen Ron on the chair, or Mustrum (curiously, Henry has really not been seen on it). Iggy and Lily are on it now, in fact – they have spent every night on there since the bag arrived.
We can only assume that they’re now using it because it’s no longer clearly *meant* for them – ornery creatures, cats.
We are due to go to Leeds this afternoon – we have tickets for a Show of Hands gig (yay!), and are also going into Ikea to pick up a few bits (yay! meatballs!).
However, we did wonder last night whether we might have to cancel … Ron wasn’t too well – he was doing an odd thing with his mouth, clicking his teeth and shaking his head; we think he had something caught in his throat. He hurtled through to the food bowl and ravened when we put fresh meat down, though, so I tried not to worry. And this morning, he seems heaps better.
It set me thinking though. We’ve had to cancel a fair few Outs due to cats:
- In Feb 2000, Iggy had a nasty respiratory illness, causing us to not go to see Yes in Cardiff
- in October 2003, we had a weekend in Cornwall booked for Pete’s birthday; Zool was killed by a car just a couple of days beforehand, and we didn’t have the heart to go
- again in Feb 2000, we lost Shrimp, and cancelled a dinner in London that we’d been looking forward to
- in October 2008, we were due to go and see Jeremy Hardy do a standup gig in Bristol – we came downstairs at 5 p.m. and realised that Aliss was dying, and stayed at home with her.
Odd how these memories stay with you …
This old Ikea rug had been in front of the back door since we moved, until we finally bought a new mat in the wonderful Boyes, an emporium of cheap (mostly) tat.
Having washed it, I had no idea where it might live, so stuck it on the landing between bedroom and study doors; the Tribe approve of it mightily – not as a rug to stand or lay on, oh no. They roll themselves up in it, pounce on it (and whoever it under it), drag it around, and generally have a high old time. Good for them to get some exercise!
Soon after we moved here, I caught Mustrum chomping at the aloe vera plant in the bathroom; further surveillance found that other cats were having a go at the big spider plant in the living room. We tried to dissuade them, without much success, until I had a lightbulb moment …
We had a garden in Long Ashton, with grass; here we just have a back yard, and nothing much has been planted yet. And the Tribe were missing the grass. A quick trip to Pets at Home, and the expenditure of a couple of quid, and we were in possession of a cat grass plant thing, which I placed on the front windowsill.
They love it, and my house plants are now in recovery mode!
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We’ve been worried about Iggy since we arrived here in Hull last November; after his four day walkabout, he was clearly unhappy with his environment, and displayed evidence of same. He lived mostly either in the bathroom or the kitchen, rarely setting a paw in the bedroom, living room or study. He absolutely hated the snowy weather too.
But now there are signs of spring in the air, and there’s a most definite change in the chap. He’s going out a lot (although he much prefers for me to open the front door, rather than use the cat flap), is spending time in the bedroom where the sun streams in – when it’s shining, of course – and generally being more Iggyish.
I took the above photo on Tuesday from the study window – he’s on the wall of the back yard of the house over the way, he’d faced down another cat and was quite clearly reasonably pleased with life. I’m so pleased that he’s settled down at last.
- Mustrum threw up on my iPHone :( #
- Lilith has had some crumbs of black pudding for lunch … this may have given her ideas. #
- cats on my desk http://bit.ly/9erPrZ #
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A cat with an uncanny ability to detect when nursing home patients are about to die has proven itself in around 50 cases by curling up with them in their final hours, according to a new book. Story from the Telegraph.
It’s cold again, which means many cats decide that the bed with the warm, goosedown duvet is the place to be overnight. Of course, it’s the place *we* want to be too, so there is an element of shoving, and territorial squabbling, between cats and blobs.
Lilith has decided that where she wants to be overnight is *under* the duvet. This doesn’t work for all sorts of reasons, not least because she’s remarkably sharp at the moment – I think her claws could do with a clip, but I’m not volunteering, thankyouverymuch.
Thus, for the past couple of nights, I’ve spent what seems like half my time either blocking her or removing her, only for her to return immediately for another assault.
The rest of the Tribe battle for space and warmth too, of course, but they do that _on top_ of the bedclothes, so it’s marginally less fraught.
Roll on spring …
