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My brother Adrian has just gone off on a weeks holiday and I thought,
now is a good time to do a post on cats.
Adrian doesn’t like cats. “Too many cats on your blog” he says.
If fact I don’t think he likes rabbits and dogs either.
And I know for sure he is not too keen on ponies because of their expense!.
He fancies birds - the feathered type. He supports the RSPB, you see.
But I was reading that even the RSPB, the protector of the UK’s wild bird population, agrees that cats are not causing a decline in wild bird populations. There’s evidence that cats tend to take weak or sickly birds, and it’s likely that birds taken by cats would have died anyway before the next breeding season from other causes. According the the RSPB website, cat predation only has the potential to be a significant problem when they live close to scarce habitats, where they could potentially be damaging to species with a restricted range or species dependent on a fragmented habitat .
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So how about starting off with a true story.
A reception class pupil told his teacher he’d found a cat, but it was dead.
“How do you know that the cat was dead?“ she asked her pupil.
“Because I pissed in its ear and it didn’t move,“ answered the child innocently.
“You did WHAT?“ the teacher exclaimed in surprise.
“You know,“ explained the boy,
“I leaned over and went ‘Pssst’ in its ear and it didn’t move”
Well, apart from Adrian, I’ve had a number of requests for a feline blog and to be honest, I didn’t know really where to start. My ‘Pictures Folder’ (now fully retrieved) is packed full of pictures taken over many years, of many cats, in many places.
You see -
Pussycats sleep anywhere, any table, any chair,
Top of cold-bag, window ledge,
In the middle, on the edge.
In my trousers by the loo,
Anybody’s shoe will do,
Fitted in a cardboard box.
With a hoover, with your socks… anywhere!
They don’t care!
Pussycats sleep anywhere.
And some fitting pictures!
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| "Top of Cold-Bag" |
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| "Window Ledge" |
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| "In my Trousers by the Loo" |
(Seventeen years ago, when Wes was a wee kitten,
he used to climb into my trousers when they dropped to my ankles,
for essential functions - he still tries!)
I have to step out and find another pair.
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| "Anybody's Shoe will do" |
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| "Fitted in a Cardboard Box" |
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| "With a Hoover" |
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The most cats I’ve had around the place at one time, was four. That was twenty years ago when it didn’t cost much to keep them. Even Vets fees were not too bad then.
Now they charge £180 an hour! Not that anyone needs an hour but it’s still £30 for ten minutes and then there’s medication and VAT on top of that.
The lady next door, who keeps chickens, was telling me about her friend in Beaconsfield who took one of her chickens to the local Vet. He examined it, looked at her, and shook his head. “I’m very sorry but your chicken is dead.”
The lady was very upset. “Are you sure? It might just be in a coma.
Can I have a second opinion?”
The Vet sighed. “Very well.” And then went next door, returning with a Labrador dog, which sniffed at the chicken, then looked up with big sad eyes and shook its head.
Then the Vet brought in a Ginger Tomcat and placed it on the table.
The cat sniffed the chicken, then meowed mournfully and jumped off the table.
“As I told you, I’m afraid your chicken really has passed away (and ceased to lay).”
Then he went onto the computer, punched out a few keys and produced a bill of £89. Her friend was astonished: “How much? £89 just to tell me that my chicken is dead? How do you justify that?”
The Vet pushed his glasses further up his nose.
“I’m very sorry but if you’d just taken my word for it would have been free…
..but with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan”…
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For years and years I have tried and tried to grow catnip in the garden.
I buy a plant from the garden centre (£1.25), plant it out and within hours it is chewed to death! Next I tried growing it in a pot up on the greenhouse staging. Within two hours if was on the ground - also chewed to death!
My last attempt was to grow it in a hanging basket.
This worked - except that I forgot to water it and it dried out and died!
I have noticed that on visiting Nat. Trust gardens, they grow rows and rows of it all along the path edges. They obviously don’t have cats?
Or perhaps it’s a different variety?
What does the interweb tell us -
Catnip is often also called catmint by some gardeners, especially those in Britain. For many, the two terms are interchangeable. However, the species of catnip that most pet owners give their cats is the species Nepeta cataria. Catmint is often the common name for the species Nepeta mussinni. Although both species belong to the same family, they have slightly different characteristics. Catmint is a shorter plant, one that grows more closely to the ground, and has less of the active properties in its leaves that stimulates our pet cats.
I have tried growing it with wire protection but -
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Must be time for another joke -
A cat died and went to Heaven. God met her at the gates and said, “You have been a good cat all these years. Anything you want is yours for the asking.“
The cat thought for a minute and then said, “All my life I lived on a farm and slept on hard wooden floors. I would like a real fluffy pillow to sleep on.”
God said, ‘Say no more.’ Instantly the cat had a huge fluffy pillow.
A few days later, six mice were killed in an accident and they all went to Heaven together. God met the mice at the gates with the same offer that He made to the cat.
The mice said, “Well, we have had to run all of our lives: from cats, dogs, and even people with brooms! If we could just have some little roller skates, we would not have to run again.“
God answered, “It is done.“ All the mice had beautiful little roller skates.
About a week later, God decided to check on the cat. He found her sound asleep on her fluffy pillow. God gently awakened the cat and asked, “Is everything okay? How have you been doing? Are you happy?“
The cat replied, “Oh, it is wonderful. I have never been so happy in my life. The pillow is so fluffy, and those little Meals-on-Wheels you have been sending over are delicious!“
Of course you all know that a cat who has eaten a duck is a….
…….duck-filled fatty puss!
Sorry, I just thought I’d slip that one in.
I don’t have a picture of my four cats all together, but I do have one taken about ten years ago with three in the picture.
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| My Tribe |
It was always the same - you put down a bit of old carpet to kneel on, go back to the shed for a trowel and bucket and when you get back there is no room for you.
I called them my tribe, but the collective name for cats is "Clowder".
It is an old word for "clutter," an apt name for a gathering of cats that has, perhaps, overrun a farm in response to a plague of mice or rats.
A group of kittens or young cats had a special name: they were called a "kyndyll," or "kindle," of kittens. This is based on the old definition of the verb "to kindle," which described it as "bringing forth" or "giving birth to young." So a kyndyll of cats was simply a group of felines that had, not so long ago, been brought into the world.
There - now you know.
This last week I finished digging up the last of my leeks. They were supposed to have been ‘pulled’ by the end of March but the ground has been so hard. I managed to sow this seasons leeks in boxes in the greenhouse. I shall prick them out later when it gets warmer.
It was a cold March night in England, and a little old pensioner was sitting in front of the small fire with her faithful old Ginger Tomcat on her lap.
Suddenly there was flash, a bang and in a cloud of smoke a Fairy appeared out of the fire.
“Little old lady,” she said, “During the last year you have been good and kind to all the poor stray cats in the neighbourhood and I am going to grant you three wishes. What would you like?”
When she had recovered from the shock the little old lady said, “Firstly, I would like to receive double my meagre pension and live in a nice warm house for the rest of my life.”
The fairy waved her wand and the room was transformed into a cosy drawing room and on the table were bags of gold.
“Next wish, please” she said.
“Please make me young and beautiful,” said the little old lady, and she was immediately turned into a glamorous young woman.
“For my third wish, will you please turn my dear faithful Tomcat into a handsome young man?”
Immediately, standing before her was a fine Ginger haired specimen of manhood. They gazed into each others eyes and after a while, the young man stepped forward, took the lady’s hand, and kissed it saying -
“Aren’t you sorry now that you took me to the vet?”
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| "Where's my Reduced Salmon Fillets?" |
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Wesley was seventeen this last February.
I couldn’t do a post because the computer was out of action for six weeks, but I was trying to work out his age in ‘man-years’.
I’m told I have allow 15 man-years for the first year of your cat's life.
Add nine years for the second year, so a two-year old cat will approximate 24 human years.
Add four human years each for successive years of his life.
So that’s 15 + 9 + (15x4) = 84
Gosh! He’s even older than me!
And he’ll get a free TV licence next year!
Which reminds me.
Did you read about the little old lady who went down to the DHSS in High Wycombe the other morning, to ‘sign-on’ her cat?
The clerk behind the counter said, “Madam, cats are not eligible to draw benefit".
She explained to him that her cat was unemployed, idle, couldn’t speak English and had no clue who his father was.
He looked in his big ‘Book of Entitlements’ to see what it takes to qualify.
Tiddles gets his first payment next Friday!
Ha,ha! The original was worse than that but I though I had better tidy it up a bit.
What happened when the cat swallowed a new £1 coin?
There was now some money in the kitty!
Sorry (again) to slip that in - my four year old niece told me that.
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So my friends, there you go - a Cat Post.
I like cats. I find them very intelligent. Far more intelligent that dogs.
After all, you wouldn't find six cats trying to pull a sledge in the snow!
Well my joke book is almost empty but -
- talking of smart cats - and, if you insist -
Four men were bragging about how smart their cats were.
The first man was an Engineer, the second man was an Accountant, the third man was a Chemist, and the fourth man was a Civil Servant.
To show off, the Engineer called his cat. "T-square, do your stuff," he said
T-square pranced over to the desk, she took out some paper and pen and promptly drew a circle, a square, and a triangle. Everyone agreed that was pretty smart.
But the Accountant said his cat could do better. He called his cat and said "Spreadsheet, do your stuff."
Spreadsheet went out to the kitchen and she returned with a dozen biscuits. She divided them into 4 equal piles of three. Everyone agreed that was good.
But the Chemist said his cat could do better. He called his cat and said, "Measure, do your stuff."
Measure got up, she walked to the fridge, took out a quart of milk, got a one pint glass from the cupboard and she poured out exactly half a pint without spilling a drop. Everyone agreed that was pretty good.
Then the three men turned to the Civil Servant and said, "What can your cat do?"
The Civil Servant called his cat and said, "Coffee Break, do your stuff."
Coffee Break jumped to his feet. He ate all the biscuits, drank the milk, and pooped all over the drawings.
Then he got very amorous with the other three lady cats...
Claimed he injured his back while doing it...
Filed a grievance report for unsafe working conditions...
Put in for compensation and went home for the rest of the day on sick leave.
And that's why everybody wants to be a Civil Servant!
And…..finally …..to finish….
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Ode for a Seventeen year old Wesley.
He blinks upon the hearth-rug
And yawns in deep content,
Accepting all the comforts
That Uncle Bern. has sent.
Louder he purrs and louder
In one glad hymn of praise
For all the night’s adventures,
For quiet restful days.
Life will go on for ever
With all that Wes can wish -
Warmth and the glad procession
Of Felix, meat and fish.
Only one thought disturbs him
He’s noticed once or twice,
That times are somehow breeding
A nimbler race of mice!
(Thanks to Alexander Gray for the original.)
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Take care - have a Purrrrfect day.
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