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Cat Tails

Do I like cats? Well there are four cats in my home and I will tell you about them.

The first time I encountered my son’s two young cats was at his flat, one made a dive for cover and the other followed us around as I was given the miss-guided tour. When I enquired as to the cat’s names I was told that they didn’t have names.

Some months later my son asked if he could move back to live with me to be closer to his work and would it be acceptable if he brought the two cats. With him. I was already looking after a cat called Hamilton for him

Although there are already two cats in the house they are not unfamiliar with other animals. My only concern was my home is on a main road but I was assured that the cats did not go outside so I agreed.

Having cats in the house can cause some problems such as feeding arrangements if one is away from home for any length of time. I had to go to Brighton for a week and made arraignments for two friends to house sit for me. When I returned home I found my son had moved in while I was away. The house needed some rearranging to accommodate his belongings and it took weeks to get things sorted out.

The monarch of the Feline

Fraternity in the house is called Hamilton after Lady Hamilton the cat is well named because she is a snob. The cat is very particular about what she likes and dislikes. Hamilton will tolerate a show of affection and respond to it but within limits.

Hamilton’s authority over Mask and Shy was established by Hamilton stationing herself outside of the living room door and refusing to let them leave until she consented.

Where as Hamilton is “Snobbish” Mandy the second of the two resident cats is a “Tart” she has a positive discrimination for attention seeking from anyone and every one who comes to the house. Hamilton and Mandy are as different any two cats can be. They are at opposite ends of the scale, point and counter point.

There is further evidence of the difference between Hamilton and Mandy. When entering or leaving the house Hamilton walks in or out with great dignity. Mandy on the other hand makes a headlong dash through the open door to enter or leave the house.

My son’s two young cats are now known as ‘Mask’ and ‘Shy’ they vaguely resemble the markings of a Manx cat but with tails. Basically white with light and dark brown patches on the head and rump with the odd patch on the flank. Mask also has a dark patch on her nose giving her a lopsided white mask, hence the name. “Shy” is so called because she was nervous and a bit backwards at coming forward when she first came to the house.

Mask and Shy are seldom seen separately; when one is on its own you can be sure that the other is close by. Given their markings and close rapport I would think they are both from the same litter.

When they are not flashing around the house like two streaks of furry lightning. They climb over the shelves knocking priceless items of “junk” salvaged from the recycling skips or purchased at immense expense from charity shops, off on to the floor. They claim “Squatters Rights” to the most comfortable chair in the house or lay at full stretch on the floor so that one has to walk around them. One or the other, sometimes both, will ramble around the Work Station while I am working.

They curiosity knows no bound’s they poke their noses into everything and get tangled up in the various supply leads or sit on the ‘Mouse pad’ looking out of the window. It is not safe to leave a pen on my desk because they hide it behind the computer or under the paperwork.

When they are not to be seen they are in hiding under a chair, behind the door or on top of the upright fridge-freezer in the kitchen. Woe betide the unsuspecting person who walks by, they delight in springing out of cover to give me a fright.

One morning just after I woke up I went into the shower room for my usual early morning shower. Still half asleep I reached into the shower and turned it on, seconds latter two very damp cats came flying out over the top of the half door of the shower, nearly giving me a heart attack. It would not surprise me if they were members of the IRA; they are “Bloody Terrorists”.

They may not go outside but they do have a fascination for what goes on outside of the window. The two of them like to sit on the on the kitchen windowsill watching every thing that moves in the garden. Anything new or different in the house is thoroughly examined.

In the kitchen I have a cordless kettle jug that was given to me at Christmas but I could not use it because the supply lead is too short to reach the socket outlet. I continued using my old kettle until it ceased to function. Perched precariously on a 2.5 L can of paint the lead would reach the socket outlet, but that didn’t look professional.

Fixing a shelf to the wall was not a viable proposition so I made a free-standing shelf unit to raise the base high enough for the power cable to reach the socket. An unforeseen benefit was the space under the shelf where I now keep the coffee mugs. I decided to “road test” my construction by making myself a cup of coffee. I filled the kettle and stood the kettle jug on the shelf, switched it on and everything worked fine.

As I sat in the kitchen drinking the cup of coffee true to form, first Mask, and then shy decided to inspect the structure. Together they gave the shelf the once over.

They looked at me, twitched their tales in disapproval then jumped down and walked out of the kitchen. Obviously they were not impressed with my handiwork, not only are they “Bloody Terrorists”, but also critics.

There are town cats, country cats and my son’s cats, Mask and Shy. I suppose one could call them House Cats as they are restricted to the house. One reason for them being “confined to barracks” is the close proximity of a busy main road. Another reason is that my son lived in a 1st floor town flat before he moved back to live at home. Mask and shy have never known the outside world.

It was a week or two later after a particularly cold snap during which it was hard to keep the house warm I decided to fit a new draught excluder to the back door. I bought a new stick on draught excluder and set about the task.

Whilst putting the remains of the old draught excluder into the kitchen rubbish bin I noticed that the bin was full. My son has been “house trained” up to a point, but that point reached when the bin is full. He fills the bin but never thinks of putting it in the wheelie bin outside. Before continuing the task in hand I emptied the bin and put in a new bin-liner.

To do the work I had to keep the door wide open, I was a bit concerned about the young cats getting out, so had to work quickly.

The whole time that I was working on the back door Mask and Shy were sat in the kitchen watching the proceedings. Sometimes advancing to the threshold and looking but not venturing out. That is until Shy’s curiosity overcame her caution to go boldly where no Shy had ever gone before. Stepping over the threshold Shy moved into the unknown, she did not go far or stay very long. It had rained over night and the surface of the back yard was still wet. Something startled her and she made a rapid retreat back into the kitchen. A little too rapid perhaps, her wet paws lost traction on the lino as she tried to make a 90 degree left turn.

Sliding broadside across the floor she was on a collision course with Mask. Mask took avoiding action and jumped clear, came down on the lid of the empty rubbish bin. The spring loaded lid opened and Masked disappeared into the void of the bin. Shy cannoned off the bin and ended up next to the fringe under worktop. Picking her up and looking around for Mask. Shy must have heard the distress call from Mask and went back to the rubbish bin. Stood on her hind legs trying to look into the bin. Mask had to be extradited from the bin. Shaken but not stirred, they were reunited and walked somewhat unsteadily into the hall none the worse for wear but with deflated egos. I was left to finish fitting the draught excluder.

In my “office” which is actually the front bedroom, I have a fax machine and a computer. As I am profoundly deaf I rely on both for making telephone calls. Checking for any new messages on the computer one morning I could not make a contact, all that came up on the screen was an error message that read “no dialling tone check that your modem is connected.” I checked the connection and found nothing wrong. I tried again but with the same result.

I carried on working for a time and then decided to go into town. On the way into town I noticed several BT service vans parked on the side of the road and hade to negotiate several holes in the ground with worried looking telephone engineers in them. The vans, holes in the ground and the worried looking telephone engineers were still there an hour later when I walked back and so was the error massage on the computer. I reached the conclusion that there must be a fault on the outside line, which just goes to show how wrong one can be.

It was early evening when I tried the internet again hoping that the supposed fault had been rectified. But the error message was still on the screen. It then occurred to me to check the fax machine for any messages. There was just one message on the LCD and that informed that the handset was of the hook. Resetting the handset cleared the fault and the error message on the compute.

A scene of crime investigation was launched that reviled evidence of feline terrorist activity.

Change of tactics

After the close encounter with the rubbish bin the two feline junior delinquent terrorist appear to have changed tactics, instead of trying to ambush me as I walk past, they

Now demand my attention. Shy is anything but shy now and will insist on sitting on my lap when I am working. She will not take no for an answer, if I ignore her and carry on working she will sit on the keyboard so that I can’t use it. Mask is just as bad; she has now taken to lying by the door and will not let me pass without making a fuss of her. If I try to move her she plays possum. Attempts to move her she just rolls over on her back and wants her belly rubbed. All efforts made to pick her up fail because she just bends in the middle like a piece of rubber or digs her claws into the carpet.

It is my normal practice to get up at 0530 hrs if I do not get up Hamilton will bit my toe. Hamilton wanted feeding but I was out of cat food. It was too early to go to the shop for fresh supplies; they do not open until 0700hrs. she got the hump and wanted to be let out There is a cat flap in the back door but it has been changed to a one-way system, they can get in but not out. When the two senior cats want to go out I have to open the door for them. They seem to take a perverse delight in getting me to act as doorman because they go around the outside of the bungalow and renter through the cat-flap in the back door to demsnd to be let out again.

After letting Hamilton out of the front door, don’t forget she is a snob and will not use the “tradesmen’s entrance” Mandy decided she wanted to be let out of the back door. I am sure there is a conspiracy between Hamilton and Mandy; Hamilton will let it be known that she wants to be let out and then sit by the front door. Moments later Mandy will be asking be let out of the back door.

At 0700 I went to the shop to purchase a tin of cat food. When I got back to the front gate Mandy was sat on the lawn waiting. Normally she will come to me but

She did not move until I showed her that I had a tin of food.

Opened the front door she ran in and I gave her some food. There was no sign of Hamilton. I tried calling her in but she did not show, by mid morning Hamilton still had not made an appearance. She was nowhere to be found in the house so I sent Mandy out to find her.

About half an hour later Hamilton came in and I put food down for her. It took some persuasion on my part before she grudgingly consented to eat.

Mask and Shy eat, sleep and play together and for the most part ignore Hamilton and Mandy. Hamilton and Mandy treat each other with respect, if one is sat on the floor the other will make a wide detour to enter or leave the room.

All cats are intelligent with good memories and learn by observation. Mandy knows that it is my normal practise to visit my local pub for an hour most evenings. If weather permits she will sit on the front wall waiting for my return. When she sees me leaving the pub she stands up and waits for me to cross the road then walks to the front door making sure that I get home safe.

I do not know if cats have feelings for other cats as we do for other people or if it is just natural instinct, but I remember when another cat we had in the house was poorly, she would not eat the food I put down for her and Mandy the hunter, brought in a vole and laid it in front of the old cat, then sat back to watch over her. When the old cats time came. It was obvious to me that Mandy was distressed for some time afterwards.

The history of domestic cats has had it up and downs. They were highly valued in Egypt. They have been used for sport and to provide game for the table. In the Middle Ages, however, cats were generally feared and hated. Because of their nocturnal habits they were believed to consort with the Devil.

My own personal opinion of cats is that I except hem for what they are, useful and entertaining. Cats are sometimes demanding but always independent. The cats in my home do not actually belong to me; I only provide accommodation for them. I have known cats that come and go as they please diapering for weeks at a time and then walk back into the house as if they had never been away.

Do I like cats?

That is a question you will have to answer for yourself.

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