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

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Cat babies: Squeeeee

This is Mummy cat having a little snooze after kitten number two of five. She gave birth yesterday on her own first birthday.

She chose her birthing area herself: an upmarket shopping bag full of wool. The balls had to be removed so the kittens didn't get entangled. She had five babies at half hour intervals.

And I'll tell you another thing, she was serene and purred the whole way through, so in my next life please... I want to come back as a cat.


Can't see what that little black blob is? Here's a (blurry) close up:

Friday, November 04, 2011

Quick catch up


We fled the impending Bangkok floods for the airport during a tropical storm; the lights went out in our apartment and we had to pack in the dark and then find a taxi in the roaring rain, thunder and lightening. 

The children and I have settled in well at the Parental Evacuation Centre here in Kent, UK. We’d only been here three days when I asked Husband when we could come back. I don’t think he appreciated that.

But you see, this is an unscheduled visit and it feels wrong. The kids should be in school; they have exams. They’ve had nearly two weeks unplanned time off and it might be one more… School has obtained permission to open on Monday 7th but things aren’t back to normal in Bangkok – they aren’t even better than when we left. Provisions are being made for online learning for those not in school but still…. So we feel we should wait a week before we go back. Or should we? I don’t know. I don’t like making decisions. (I found this online decision maker. I asked it if we should go back to Bangkok and it said no. So there we are: decision made.)

And there ARE things to keep us amused here: let’s see, there’s the paperwork I brought with me. Hmm, I haven’t touched that. The novel? The non-fiction book? Nope; untouched. As you can see from the picture, there are kittens. Oh yes. Five of them. Five weeks old and pretty perfect entertainment. And if we get bored of them, there is another, very pregnant cat, due any day now. 

Here she is showing off her bellyful of kittens:


Tuesday, September 06, 2011

Cats and Cakes

This post was inspired by Helen's memories of Summer 2011 blogpost. Helen's is mostly to do with cake. When I thought about doing a similar thing I realised that food (not so much cake) was a big part of my summer but so were cats. They punctuated my summer. They aren't all here and some pictures (Peanut, I'm looking at you) don't present their best side.



1. Peanut 'helping' sort photographs.
2. I thought I wouldn't get any tomatoes from the greenhouse before I left. I was part of the watering the yard and greenhouse team but there were no ripe toms until THE DAY I LEFT and then I ate all of them.
3. Chickpea or Noodles in Manchester: no idea which one it is.
4. Beetroot, potato salad and green salad with cucumber: all from my Dad's garden/greenhouse. YUM.
5. Custard looks bad tempered here. He's not; he's divine and I love him because he will always come to me for some cat loving. He was actually poorly and taken off to the vets a few days later.
6. Zen or Sephy. No idea which cat is which.
7. It might have been the only cake I had a picture of but it was THE best cake I've ever eaten.
8. Zen and Sephy.
9. HP, 17 years young. This picture was taken in March this year. Two or three weeks after we got back to Bangkok we got the phone call we'd been expecting. RIP HP. He was a proper gentleman cat.
10. Lentil, red pepper and feta salad and whatever else I might have in the fridge. In honour of HK.
11. HK's cat. No idea which one but it came to comfort me when I was a party pooper and in bed with a migraine.
12. Back in Bangkok and I  made tzatziki in honour of my sister and felafels in honour of Leon.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Leo the dog

I've blogged about Leo before: here and here.

When I was back in the UK last October Leo had pulled my Dad over in the garden causing Dad to break is ischium (part of the pelvis.)

He was a year old (Leo, not my Dad) and showing no signs of growing up. He'd eaten two beds and hidden all his bowls in the garden. By way of helping, I went out and bought Leo a lovely bed with a soft liner. While I was in the pet shop I got 6 new cat bowls and 4 more dog bowls.

So I'm home again now and Leo is nearing two and still showing no signs of maturity. He's eaten the bed I bought him and only has the soft liner to sleep on. This is removed during the day when he is liable to eat it and returned to him at bedtime. There is no sign of the bowls I purchased. All the bowls are being removed to a stash in the garden. He is not willing to reveal to us where it is.

Wednesday, July 07, 2010

Feeding time all the time

I’m a very bad blogger when I’m in the UK. Husband (still in Bangkok) has complained.

Mostly I have been sous chef to my father and my sister. The problem with having lots of people in the house (we are ten if everyone is home) is that as soon as one meal is finished you have to start thinking about the next one. Staples such as milk and bread have to be closely monitored. We have to contend with vegetarians, pescetarians, carnivores, wheat intolerances, strawberry allergies and diabetics as well as the usual childhood likes and dislikes.

The table is in a constant state of rotation: clearing or laying. The cats don’t help. Peanut is pictured, holding court over the table. He's lovely as long as you don't try to touch his tummy, or in fact, do anything he doesn't want you to do. See those demon eyes?







Thursday, May 06, 2010

Unsteady Jenny

I love how meeting blog friends is like making proper, in the real world, friends. I met a blog friend today for the first time –  *Waves* - she just lives over the road from me which is pretty fab.

I went to hers; so I got me some cat lovin’ too, which is even better.

Lovely Talli has given me this Prolific Blogger Award. I wondered if it was for my verbal diarrhoea-like tendencies. These have been strangely missing this week as I worry away about my novel and my next step. I'm not sure how many people I nominate... I might have to check up on this.

Back on form tomorrow for a Friday Photo.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Cats

Talli said in my comments yesterday ‘When in trouble... turn to cats’ and I think she’s right and we are in proper trouble here. Cats are cool.  These have been mine:

Loppy Lugs was my first cat when I was around seven. My sister got Loppy’s sister, Squeaker. Loppy was an absolute bitch of a cat while Squeaker was a dreamy pet, allowing my sister to dress her up and push her around in a pram. Loppy Lugs never wanted me anywhere near her and got stroppier as she got older.

We always had family cats during the next part of my life: Polly, Jaffa, Weed, Frista, HP and Ketchup are the ones I can remember.

Husband and I got our first house and not quite ready to commit to children we got a couple of cats we called Snipe and Wigeon. Within a week or so of getting them, Wigeon was diagnosed with cat flu; the vet didn’t sound very optimistic but my mum told me that when they die of feline flu, it’s usually dehydration so I stayed up with a pipette force feeding him liquids for three nights. I had a special love for Wiggie Woo. He loved us back in that special cat way – cursorily - but he smiled when he loved us. I couldn't find a picture of him smiling though.

Snipe loved me in desperate and needy way, which, to my shame, meant I sometimes found him irritating. He thought I was his mummy and nobody else would do. He wanted to sit on me ALL the time. I think I broke his heart when I had a baby. Over the following months, other people would do… because I wasn’t available.

Then we were given a cat for a wedding present by our best man. (Don’t ever do this!) We renamed him Devil or Devvy so we didn’t upset the neighbours. He had character… all the while he was opening your arteries. He was stroppy, arrogant and selfish; and a real Six Dinner Sid. Despite having had him neutered he continued to provide a friendly service to the local female cat population. I took him to the vets about this and his aggression problems.  The vet thought Devil might have had an undescended testicle and tried to examine him. Devil didn’t much like that and while the vet mopped up his own blood he told me he’d have to do the procedure under a general anaesthetic.  When we moved I put a notice up explaining he was our cat, but that I understood he was living in various other homes. I wanted people to know that he would leave with us, unless they wanted to offer him a permanent home. I got a phone call from a neighbour begging me not to leave him in the neighbourhood.

Finally we got Benny and TC. It was awful when we moved to Bangkok but luckily they were offered a home with Sister in law so we can keep in touch with them. (They write great letters.) If we'd known how long we'd be living in Bangkok, we would probably have got a couple of cats from the Soi Cat and Dog Rescue... but because our contract has been renewed year by year we haven't.

I've never lived for such a long period without cats in my life.


Sunday, August 30, 2009

Catchup with Ketchup

Do you remember my parents’ cat, Ketchup? She should have been called Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. She tried to open my arteries when we took her to the vet the summer before last. Well this summer she was poorly again. I made my Dad come to the vets with us because I too scared to go on my own. Poor cat, she was so unwell she didn’t object to an examination by the vet.

Very gently, as we were leaving for the airport, I told Daughter to say goodbye to her. She is twelve-ish but so staggery and unwell that I was pretty certain we weren’t going to see her again. Having family pets die when you’re overseas is hard for children.

Then my sister told me in an email that Ketchup had a blood test after I’d left and she’d been diagnosed with an overactive thyroid. This is good because it’s treatable but it’s very bad because she needs to be given a tablet EVERY DAY FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE.

Sometimes I’m really glad I live 6000 miles away from my family.

When I expressed admiration for anyone administering tablets to Ketch, my sister wrote: “Best practice re Ketchie and tablet is a swift pick-up followed speedily by opening her gob and chucking the tab down before her addled brain cells have time to kick in with "NO!" and "CLAWS OUT!" You can almost see that bit happening as she hits the floor again once it's all over.” My sister is very brave.

Just now I got off the phone from my folks. They said that Ketch has recovered well. So well, in fact that she’s gone back to her old slasher-cat antics. When someone tries to give her a tablet she grows sixteen legs and uses all of them to lacerate whoever is nearby. But, they said – and I could hear the grins – they’ve just discovered a secret.

Ketchup loves camembert. If they squidge the tablet into a piece of camembert she eats it all on her own on the floor not realising that the medicine is inside.

But, apparently, only camembert will do.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Introducing Leo

Regular readers might remember the demise of poor old Flicka, my parents’ dog back in November 08.

Several dogless weeks passed and then my sister spotted a notice about a litter of local puppies that would soon be ready for homes. She and our Dad set out to have a look. And that’s how they found him. Both parents are working dogs: Dad is a gun dog and Mum, a sheep dog. Leo is a love but I think he might be crossed with a kangaroo as well.

He has had a colourful few months at my Mum and Dad’s. At Easter he broke through the Fort Knox type gate across the bottom of the stairs and stole a chocolate egg. For anyone who doesn’t know, chocolate contains theobromine which is dangerous for dogs. Poor Leo was horribly unwell for three days. I’ll spare you the details, just in case any of you are eating, but the kitchen tiles had to be removed and destroyed … as you can see from the pic the floor has returned to some tiles I remember from my childhood.

There are four cats here. Two, HP and Ketchup, are my parents’ and the other two, Peanut and Custard, are my sister’s. Custard is sweet but aptly named: cowardy, cowardy Custard. He lives upstairs and accesses the garden through a series of catflaps that never require him to come face to face with a canine. HP and Ketch are elderly and pretty stoical about the bouncing dog; they’re buggered if they’re going to run from him.

A couple of days ago Peanut came over the stair gate and Leo appeared from nowhere, 0-80mph from prostrate. Peanut, claws attempting purchase on the lino, reacted with a run toward the kitchen, where Dad was making supper. On hearing the commotion of scrabbling paws, Dad turned in time to see Peanut take flight from nearly two metres away. He glided through the air, landing out of the dog’s reach, on the kitchen table, with one paw in the shepherd’s pie.

Last night Leo started obedience training.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Warning: Cat below

Ketchup, sister to HP (of the headless rabbit saga) needed to go to the vet. Daughter wanted to take her so I agreed to go too. The family chuckled and told us some tales which we did not heed. ‘She’s bitten a vet’ we were told; when she was spayed they couldn’t give her anaesthetic so they had to stick her in a box of chloroform.

Still, we didn’t heed the warning.

Ketchup is the laziest, most docile pussy cat ever. She should be called ‘Sloth’ as she’s a dumpling that allows my daughter to maul her, she doesn’t hunt, she eats, sleeps and poops (if she can get away with it, in a corner of a room rather than going outside.)

We took her to the vet and in the waiting room I put my finger in and stroked her paw. She growled at me.

I withdrew my finger fastish, but I didn’t heed the warning.

We took her through in the basket to the surgery. I told the vet that my folks told me I should warn her, but I didn’t believe it. The vet said ‘she’s got a warning on her records.’

We opened her basket; she cowered at the back. ‘She should be called Apathy’ I said, putting my hand towards the open basket, ‘I don’t mind a nip.’ She screamed at me and made to open several of my arteries.

She is Jekyll and Hyde cat. Thank god for the vet. I’ve come home for a lie down.


This is post vet visit. She's a bit pissed off.