Quite a stressful day, yesterday, I released a rather skittish cat, Jubilee, out into our garden after five weeks of confinement. After a minute or so she disappeared through a gap in the hedge and couldn't be found for well over two hours.
Eventually she thankfully re-appeared in the garden. At least she knows where we live !! But she ran off whenever I approached.
Patience, and a piece of stick to prop open the cat flat, finally did the trick, after nearly four hours. Hunger and evening cold may have also played their part. She proceeded to eat two dishfuls of food before curling up to sleep on the windowsill.
Cats are so independent, unlike dogs. But that makes it all the more rewarding when they come to you and trust you.
For the past five weeks we have been getting aquainted with Jubilee and Tia, two cats whose previous family are emigrating to Australia. Three and four years old, they are far from kittens, and whilst one, Tia, sometimes seems as faithful and loyal as a dog, it helps that she has an uncontrollable instinct to chase small things on sticks. Jubilee is far too canny for that. Although she twitches slightly, she can control this urge when necessary. However, she sometimes loses control when presented with a small ball of rolled up newspaper.
Both Jubilee and Tia love watching our tank of tropical fish. TV is good, but the fish are much better.
An ealier ginger cat called Sandy also liked watching our tropical fish, but he had a more affectionate relationship with a goldfish we inherited. Sandy would sit quietly alongside the tank while the fish swam towards him and they would kiss gently through the glass.
The goldfish has rather a romantic story all of its own. Aquired from a local fair as a tiny fish in a plastic bag, he spent many years with my brother-in-law. The fish swam around in a small tank with only a white cat curled up on the side table for company. When my brother-in-law died we brought the fish home in a bucket and he lived in a tank on our washing machine, for probably four years.
Then we took this much grown specimen to a friend's outdoor pond to have some space. They called him Reg after the brother-in-law. The first time the poor fish had been given a name. We regularly received Christmas cards and health updates from Reg - he was happy.
Then we had the news... Reg was Regina - she had had babies. I love a happy ending!!
Eventually she thankfully re-appeared in the garden. At least she knows where we live !! But she ran off whenever I approached.
Patience, and a piece of stick to prop open the cat flat, finally did the trick, after nearly four hours. Hunger and evening cold may have also played their part. She proceeded to eat two dishfuls of food before curling up to sleep on the windowsill.
Cats are so independent, unlike dogs. But that makes it all the more rewarding when they come to you and trust you.
For the past five weeks we have been getting aquainted with Jubilee and Tia, two cats whose previous family are emigrating to Australia. Three and four years old, they are far from kittens, and whilst one, Tia, sometimes seems as faithful and loyal as a dog, it helps that she has an uncontrollable instinct to chase small things on sticks. Jubilee is far too canny for that. Although she twitches slightly, she can control this urge when necessary. However, she sometimes loses control when presented with a small ball of rolled up newspaper.
Both Jubilee and Tia love watching our tank of tropical fish. TV is good, but the fish are much better.
An ealier ginger cat called Sandy also liked watching our tropical fish, but he had a more affectionate relationship with a goldfish we inherited. Sandy would sit quietly alongside the tank while the fish swam towards him and they would kiss gently through the glass.
The goldfish has rather a romantic story all of its own. Aquired from a local fair as a tiny fish in a plastic bag, he spent many years with my brother-in-law. The fish swam around in a small tank with only a white cat curled up on the side table for company. When my brother-in-law died we brought the fish home in a bucket and he lived in a tank on our washing machine, for probably four years.
Then we took this much grown specimen to a friend's outdoor pond to have some space. They called him Reg after the brother-in-law. The first time the poor fish had been given a name. We regularly received Christmas cards and health updates from Reg - he was happy.
Then we had the news... Reg was Regina - she had had babies. I love a happy ending!!
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