When is a cat a pigeon?

The answer to this riddle in the Smith household is Saturdays!

We have, for quite some time now, had a plastic jar in the kitchen that contains cat treats, Dreamies to be precise. It began life as a small screw lid tub but as the number of cats in the house grew, so did the level of demand and the small tub metamorphosed into a larger container. It is referred to as "the sweetie jar" even though the contents are of a savoury persuasion and all of our cats know where it's kept & when it comes out.

The "sweeties" are sprinkled on the cats' food at teatime and are also used to entice any stragglers in at the end of the day but the pigeon reference applies just to Saturday mornings. Lunar was the culprit that started the trend - she knew the sound of her dad's keys in the door on his return from work and invented a stance, standing on our kitchen bin & placing her front paws on the little shelf above it. She would remain in that position until Kev peered around the door frame, then she would make little noises as though asking for something. This went on for a couple of weeks then suddenly she appeared to have worked out what time he usually got home and would run in from the garden, ready for his return home.

Now, don't think I'm being derogatory here but none of my cats are the sharpest knife in the drawer but when it comes to food, they suddenly appear to be able to grow a few brain cells and once one had worked out that Lunar was getting fringe benefits, they all realised that goodies were up for grabs. So, when hubby got home instead of one eager little face, he was greeted by The Effervescent Eight! Having 8 cats is a blessing, but it can also be a pain in the bum and trying to pacify so many all in one go takes nerves of steel (I may be exaggerating just a little!). Lunar is quite happy to accept these small biscuity treats when they are offered one at a time but I did not marry an octopus so Kev had to come up with a cunning plan - and that is how "pigeon time" came into existence!

Originally my better half would just sprinkle the little parcels of yumminess around the floor like bird seed, hence the pigeon reference but there were too many instances of growling & swiping at each other so that had to be rethought. The routine now starts with a frenzy of furry excited bodies, milling around like a feline swarm. Kev brings the jar of goodies into the living room, kneeling in the middle of the floor & unscrewing the lid. At this point he removes two handfuls and distributes 7 little piles of sweeties around the floor at strategic points so that each cat has a share. Yes, I did say 7 piles and yes, we do have 8 cats. Lunar refuses to be treated like the others & has 2 preferences that do not involve her having to eat the treats off the carpet - if she feels like "slumming it", she will eat the treats straight from the jar as her head is small enough to fit. But, if she is being our usual fussy feral, then she requires the offerings to be placed delicately in her mouth, one at a time, as though you are posting letters into a small furry post box. We judge how many are required by the speed that they are consumed & once the pace slows down you know that she has had enough.

And why do we pander to such behaviour? Because we are the original "Crazy Cat Couple"!

The Naming of Cats

I find myself sitting here on an eerily quiet Wednesday morning, with just Jacob for company. Feelix was heard talking to himself outside the back door 10 minutes ago, a sad side-effect of what we think is dementia, but he seems happy enough in his own little world so we pander to him where possible.

 

As my sources of inspiration are out roaming the neighbourhood, I was worried that I would be bereft of material & although it is cheating a bit, I found this poem by T S Elliot & thought it more than appropriate for the blog - enjoy!

 

The Naming of Cats

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
... When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, or George or Bill Bailey -
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter -
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that's peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum -
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover -
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.

T S Elliot

A brief comment!

Ever owned a cat & let them lick you? Then this may apply:-

My Cat is an Angel,
Sent from above,
With sandpaper kisses
And a heart full of love.

My cats all have different "textures" ranging from smooth to rough but this is dedicated to our beloved Parsnip (aka Nippy) who had the roughest tongue that I have ever come across xxxx

Kleptomania, feeline-style!

Does your cat bring you "little surprises" when you least expect them? Of course he or she does - a mouse, a bird, a frog, the list of little casualties is endless.

In my case, our supplier of bountiful gifts is Lunar the 6-year feral that we took in. Lunar was only 3-weeks old when she came to us, the sad result of the feral community on Hadleigh Road Industrial Estate. A tiny mite right from the start, who grew from a small bundle of fluff into the beautiful & charming compact little cat that we have today. The collecting trait started as a mere whim - Lunar appears to have a penchant for peanuts, or more correctly, monkey nuts in the shells. We have homed a selection of hamsters, gerbils & degus over the years and all these love monkey nuts. We discovered early on though that if one of the rodents was offered a nut, Lunar was insistent that she have one too. She would strut proudly around the house with her "prize" and after a while she started to present these objet d'art at my husband's feet. When he threw the nut across the room, she would run & pick it up and bring it back to him. Like I said, just a mere whim....

And that's when it started - the beginning of Lunar's fetish for inanimate objects (I can't for the life of me ever remember her bringing home a shrew, though the odd Slow Worm have fallen foul of her).
It began with a sock, a little baby boy's sock to be precise, small and neat and obviously recently washed! After a bit of detective work, I ended up handing the sock back to my neighbour with the apology "I'm so sorry, she's never done anything like this before, I'm sure it's a one-off". Was it? No... the collection grew & became more diverse. The next item was another baby sock, this time a little girl's; sadly we did not know anyone who may have owned this item so it ended up in the bin. Next was a latex glove, then a cigarette packet, a pack of chewing gun, a man's woollen glove, various bottle tops & assorted miscellaneous items including silver foil, a shopping list and then a brand spanking new blue cat collar that did not belong to any of my troops!! Finally, the piece-de-resistance - the headless rifleman. Brought in at some point during a warm Saturday afternoon & lovingly placed in the washing-up bowl for me to find when I next did the dishes....

Since then, her obsession does seem to have waned a bit & the gifts are not so frequent now though I will sadly admit that the rifleman has a place in my heart and remains in the nick-nack drawer in the kitchen...

My therapists have whiskers...

I have owned cats now for 24 years. My family never introduced me to them during my childhood years - we had dogs, Golden Retrievers to be more precise and I loved Josie & Ellie with all my heart. But when I met & moved in with Kev, my pet persuasions suddenly changed. An 11-month old black cat called Frodo crashed into our lives early in 1989 followed by an adorable ginger 10-week old kitten that we named Basil and we were smitten!

Lets get close & clinical about this now - OK, OK, just indulge my longing to get medical about the subject.

• Did you know that Cortisol levels (associated with stress) go down & Serotonin (the "feel good" hormone) levels go up when you cuddle a cat.
• One study over 20 years has shown that non-cat owners are 40% more likely to die from heart-related conditions than cat owners are.
• Researchers aren't sure why but cat owners have fewer strokes than people who don't own cats. It's partly due to the effects owning a pet can have on a person's circulation. But researchers speculate that cats may have a more calming effect on their owners than other animals do. It may also have something to do with the personality of a cat owner. Cats often become the focus of their owner's interest, which diverts them from other stressful worries.
• Cats are a conversation piece & fellow-moggy owners are more likely to stop & talk to others about their furry charges.
• Researchers have found that when children grow up in a home with cats they are less likely to develop allergies. The same is true for kids who live on a farm with large animals. In addition, higher levels of certain immune system chemicals show a stronger immune system, which will help keep them healthy as they get older.

I would hate to poo-poo all the research that has been done & the money that has probably been spent on said research but I think that it is much simpler than that. When I come home from a bad day at work, there are 8 eager (and usually hungry) little faces that are there waiting for me. Pushing my fingers through their plush coats is comforting, hearing each individual meow & purr is scintillating and watching them fall asleep around me during the evening, in their favourites places and on any available warm lap, is ultimately rewarding. You can keep your doctors, psychiatrists and valium, my therapists have whiskers.....

If you value your fingers, don't touch!

It's official - a heat-wave has descended over 13 Kingston Road & I now have to deal with the aftermath. According to the weather gurus, the temperature is 21degrees centigrade with 54% humidity - translated into "Kingston Cat" speak, that amounts to "too hot, get off mum or you'll get scratched" according to Spike, Feelix, Oscar, Jake & Gizzy. I'll just sit here quietly, with my hands firmly in my lap then, shall I?

Cleanliness is next to godliness, most of the time!

What a beautiful Sunday morning - the sun is shining, the birds are singing....and 50% of the moggies are indoors!! We're sitting here quietly with Top Gear droning on in the background, reading the Sundays and marvelling at the dross that is being reported this weekend in the tabloids and over the top of it all is a noise. We hear this noise on a regular basis but this morning it is particularly noticeable. My cats are your typical felines when it comes to grooming - they like to be clean but Oscar's regime drives us to distraction. He starts like any normal moggy would, plonking his bottom unceremoniously on the floor (or coffee table in this case) and the licking begins. It starts in a smooth unhurried fashion but then he starts to build momentum and the little pink tongue becomes more & more furtive. Once he has reached top speed, the noise starts......slurping! It's like an OAP without their dentures in, trying to eat an ice-cream, and it's very distracting! How can you seriously understand Jeremy Clarkson talking about horse-power & torque when all you can hear is "schlooooooop, schlooooooop, schloooooop" in the background. "OSCAR, STOP DOING THAT!"

A hot Saturday night.

Not too much to report at the moment - Jake has just suffered from a momentary vomiting session (over Kirsten's shoulder, no less), Feelix is sharing the little sofa with his dad, Gizzy has the high spot on the cat stand, Wednesday & Oscar are enjoying the cooling effects of the glass coffee table (with the assistance of the fan), Spike is delicately draped over the arm of the big sofa, Midget is residing in the Amazon box that has ended up on the living room floor & Lunar? God knows.......

A new beginning...

My name is Jayne. Uninspiring, but at least not "plain Jane". I have been rescuing animals since I was approx. 8 years old (I am now 45-years young, cough!) and although my hubby Kevan and I rescued anything & everything for many years, we have had to specialise in just cats (though we still have an old degu called Theo & a geriatric canary called Mrs Custard).

We currently have 8 felines that share our home - Feelix, Spike, Jacob, Gizzy, Lunar, Oscar, Wednesday & Midget. My wonderful 16-year old daughter recently suggested that I start a blog about these beautiful & inspiring creatures and I decided to heed her advice so here is the start of the blog about "The Effervescent Eight"....