A lifestyle blog from a forty-something mum

Showing posts with label Cats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cats. Show all posts

Friday, 24 June 2016

The Week That Was... 24th June 2016


Always remember to plan aheadI'm wondering if there's any such thing as a normal week in the Anderton house?

Here, it's more a case of define normal, move the goalposts several times and just run with it. I've decided that it's good to find humour in the ridiculous. I suspect it's the only thing keeping me sane.  
 
This was my week...

Monday
Monday evening provided a welcome reprieve from the rain and we ventured out for a walk and came home via the pub. There is something rather indulgent about sitting in a beer garden on a Monday night and drinking Pimms in the sun. Life's too short not to enjoy a glass of something on a Monday don't you think? Note to self: make the most of the great British weather whenever the opportunity presents itself.

Why  I don't send Mr A into town all that often
On Thursday Mr A went into town to run a couple of errands. As I arrived home late that evening, I asked about his day and it transpired that as there was a queue in the bank, he promptly turned around and left again and instead of picking up the couple of items I'd asked for, this is what he bought...

                                                   2 French lavender plants
                                                   A bag of compost
                                                   Some rechargeable batteries
                                                  A thoughtful gift for the love of his life...

Abandoned cat toys on a wooden floor

In case you were wondering, this is the love of his life and here they are curled up on the sofa...

Man and cat curled up on the sofa
 
The cat has never ever played with anything that's a conventional cat toy. She prefers getting hold of things she isn't meant to have and fixating on them for days. She will sulk if you take it off her and so we've mostly given up. She looked at her gift on the floor, shot Mr A a withering look and wandered off into the garden for several hours.

Daughters
Sophia arrived safely at Camp in Oregon and we managed to Skype on Sunday. The camp looks unspoilt, rustic and she is enjoying herself immensely. She won't be home until September. After last year's Camp America trip, followed by travelling around for 3 weeks, I am feeling more relaxed about her being away this time. If you love them, you have to let them go, right? Oregon is 8 hours behind the UK and I find thinking about what she might be up to at any given moment strangely comforting. I have no idea why this is.

Olivia, meanwhile has been on a work experience placement and arrives at home next week along with 3 year's worth of whatever it is they accumulate at university. 

Reading
I've recently finished reading To Be Continued by James Robertson. This will be reviewed at a later date on the blog, but was a thoroughly enjoyable, slightly surreal read. Thanks to Penguin for the advance copy.

The week ahead...
If I'm not around much over the next few days, it's because I'm in Cornwall collecting Olivia from university and will be staying for a few nights. Beloved daughter has already made plans and we're off to the local rum bar for cocktails and maybe the gin palace... as well as packing up all of her belongings ready for the move home.

Gin Palace in Falmouth


Have a fabulous weekend. See you when I get back x

Izzie

Copyright ©2016 Izzie Anderton


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Saturday, 28 May 2016

National Hug Your Cat Day 2016


Hug your cat day, kitten, kitty, catostropic, adopt a petI didn't grow up with a pet.

We had a rabbit for a year or so, but after some skin pin-prick allergy tests when I was about eight, it turned out that I was allergic to the floppy-eared creature. While out on my swing one warm sunny day, I noticed that the bunny was no longer in residence in his hutch inside the greenhouse.

Questioning my mother on the subject, she admitted that the rabbit had died and she hadn't wanted to upset me. I suspect the truth was probably more brutal, and that 'Rupert' succumbed to a fox with hungry cubs after successfully digging a hole from the greenhouse in a bid for freedom once too often. My mother is silent on the topic to this day.

I pestered for a Labrador puppy after that. Naturally, this fell on very deaf ears. 

Fast forward twenty-five years or so and twin daughters, Olivia and Sophia nagged for a pet of their own. I suspect that one daughter's first words might not have been your usual, 'dadadada,' but 'dat,' instead - this translated into cat. She was utterly fixated on any feline and just as soon as she learned to walk, any utterance of the word, 'dat,' meant that she had spotted some unsuspecting fluff-ball in the distance and was about to do a runner. If the cat was daft enough to hang around, she would have loved it to death given a couple of minutes in its company.

After several years of nagging, I finally caved. The girls were almost seven and there was room for one more something to love in our lives.

I made a couple of calls to a local cat charity and we endured a scary home visit to assess our suitability as cat owners. I already had twins and no one had done any checks then. Perhaps if they had, they'd have realised how woefully unprepared I was to take on the role of mum to not one, but two small babies, never mind a cat. We were approved as potential adoptive parents and asked for our preferences on kitten type. I'd always had a thing for tabbies, but as the kitten was a gift for our daughters' 7th birthdays, the choice was theirs to make.

One Saturday in July we set off to choose our kitten. Seven adorable faces stared back at us from the confines of their makeshift home. Number eight hid in a corner, nuzzling into an old jumper and pretending to be asleep. This one had attitude and hissed as she was removed from the security of her hiding place. 'Ah, this one's feral,' said the helpful lady from the adoption centre. 'She might not be suitable for re-homing with a family.' Obviously, this was the one our daughters wanted despite the splayed claws and feisty temperament.

After much love and perseverance, the kitten was deemed OK for re-homing with a family. Several weeks later we returned to take our tortie-tabbie, feral rescue baby home. We bundled the latest addition into her cat basket and once at home, she explored tentatively, before finding her paws and claiming the house for herself.

Cute.

Yes.

Well to look at anyway.

Her many talents included...

1. Curtain shredding.

2. Carpet destroying.

3. A knack for getting into spaces she couldn't reverse out of (cue: spice and wine rack dismantling during the first week).

4. Eater of bugs - flies, spiders, wasps. You name it. She's probably eaten it.

5. Phenomenal toe-biter.
  
6. Flinging herself around the house at great speed.
  
For those first few weeks I wondered what the heck we had done? Others might rave about the joys of cat ownership, but I wasn't feeling it.

And then, came a breakthrough. Exhausted after a full day of exploring, shredding and eating things she shouldn't, the kitten clambered up on the sofa, nestled down in my arms and promptly fell asleep. She looked so cute that I hadn't the heart to move her. Apologies for the pic quality - this is pre-digital era and my daughter has chopped the original picture to fit into her kitten photo album.

Kitten, adopt a cat, Kitty, catostropic

Finally, I got it.

This tiny bundle of fluffy gorgeousness had finally deemed us worthy of her company and felt safe enough to trust us. I may have sobbed with relief.

And so, as she turns 15 next week, it's hard to sum up the previous years with our gorgeous 'Kitty' (the girls got to name her too!). She dishes out unconditional love and the very best hugs. Knows when someone's having a bad day and does her best to make amends. She fills the house with laughter and dishes out playful swipes and bites when anyone's pushing their luck. She has my husband firmly wrapped around her four tiny white paws and also has her own Twitter account @catostropic

Crazy? Moi?

Probably.

4th June also happens to be National Hug Your Cat Day... as if any excuse were needed.



Copyright ©2016 Izzie Anderton
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Monday, 10 August 2015

Things I want the cat to know...

In honour of International Cat Day on Saturday I have written this post and dedicated it to the family pet...

She's our third baby, currently the only child at home and there are times when I'd rather talk to the cat, than my husband. But after sharing our home for fourteen years - there are a few things I wish she could grasp. All of the following would make my life so much simpler...

1. Not every tin of food in the house actually contains tuna... so quit miaowing and wrapping yourself around my legs when I open a can of something. Beans, sweetcorn and spaghetti hoops aren't anything a cat needs to eat. For the record, tuna is served once a week - usually on a Monday.


2. When I ask if you want to come in - I am not being mean. Often I'm heading off for the entire day and only trying to be thoughtful. I don't appreciate being told off and glared at when I do eventually arrive home again.



3. Your sisters are away at university and when you see them on Skype, they are not actually at home. So please stop wandering all over the house looking for them and miaowing pitifully. Yes, I know you love them.

4. Worming tablets, flea drops and trips to the vet will not kill you. We do these things simply because you are loved, and we want for you to lead a long and happy life. They are not dished out as punishment.

5. You are the third baby we never had and for that reason, I can never dish out too many kisses, tummy rubs and hugs. I'm sorry if it all gets a bit much sometimes. You are one of few things in life that I never grow tired of. So humour me... I'm the one who feeds you.


6. When you fling your collection of pink bells under the sofa and can't extract them again with your paws... I am not always going to drop whatever I'm doing and find them. No amount of sulking will change this - even though you're almost too cute to resist. You could always try Daddy as you seem to have him completely wrapped around your tiny paws.

Kitty sulking

7. Not every seat in the house belongs to you. And if I want to sit on the sofa, you will be extracted and placed on my lap. It's my sofa too, that's how it is.

8. Whenever you see birds on the TV, there's no point in stalking them - even though we find this completely hilarious. 

9. Dipping your paws in the water bowl and wandering all over the house and furniture leaving paw prints is not one of your finer points. Why do you always do this just after I've cleaned?

10. For the record, you do look adorable in a tiara... I know you don't always agree.

No, I will not wear a tiara
11. You are not a sheepdog, so stop trying to round up members of the family and insisting they all watch TV at the same time. I know you like to see us together and that's sweet, but not always practical.

12. I love to dance and sometimes, dancing with you is the best thing ever - especially after a couple of glasses of wine. Obviously, I need to apologise for this, that does not mean I'm going to stop though.

13. Like Pavlov's dog and his bell, you've learnt to associate the smell of baked potatoes with delicious servings of tuna in your bowl. We don't always have tuna with baked potatoes and sometimes we like to mix things up and have chilli, salad, beans, or cheese, instead. Stop pestering me every time you pick up the scent of potato with your cute pink nose and stop sitting on top of my laptop!

And finally, here's something I'd like to know about the cat...

As she has more followers on Twitter than me... is this what she does all day when I'm not home I wonder? Check out Kitty's Twitter account here: @catostropic

Is there anything you'd like your own pets to know?

Copyright©2015 Izzie Anderton




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