Let sleeping cats lie...

Here’s a picture of my cat Luna asleep in her radiator hammock, so snug and warm and doing no mischief at all. It’s that time of year when I’m afraid the dark mornings and even darker nights keep her indoors more than she’d like and on some days, when there’s nobody around the house, she hardly gets out at all.

It’s her lazy time of the year and she sleeps away the days as well as the nights. But I’m sure she’d rather be out roaming her world, the one that runs from one end of the road to the other and across to the houses on the other side. A small world where generally she can find her way home and return in pretty much one piece most of the time (I pray it continues). Yes, there she is asleep in her hammock without a thought in her head apart from her next meal, her next poo, and the robin that teases her sometimes in the back yard.

Of course this wasn’t the blog I was intending to write tonight. There is something far more important than a sleeping cat on my mind. Something I need to get down but haven’t yet thought through well enough and haven’t so far been able to distance myself so that I can write it as honestly and unemotionally as possible.

So, for now let’s allow sleeping cats to lie, so to speak. I'll keep the cat in the bag just a little longer.

It’ll wait.

A trip to the cottage - Luna time...

When we decide to wend our weary way to Wales for the weekend Luna the cat comes with us. Well, she deserves the break and enjoys a couple of days away from it all. Not that her routine differs too much when we are there. She sleeps, eats, sleeps some more, and generally lazes around - it’s what cat do I suppose.

She travels pretty well once she is safely in her travel box, though getting her in it can be quite another matter. It’s almost that she seems to know when we are going and as soon as she gets a whiff of ‘going away’ activity she’s off to hide. We’ve taken to packing the night before and spending the hour or two before we leave whistling and looking casual so as not to drop her the hint. Even so she still seems to know. The funny thing is that she settles to the journey immediately and once we are there seems perfectly happy, so why all horse (or should that be cat) play?

At home Luna roams free outside as long as there is someone at home to look after her. She generally pops back every hour or so, mainly to get a treat stick I think. But the cottage is surrounded by countryside, so when we are there and to avoid her getting lost in the woods or attacked by wild beasts, we keep her on a harness. Again she doesn’t seem to mind and every morning jumps up on her chair and purrs until we strap her harness on. We secure her to the chair on a long leash and then she strolls outside to watch the birds all day.

The leash is long enough for her to have a stretch, but not quite long enough for her to reach the birds on the feeders. She never gives up trying though. The birds for their part seem to know that Luna can’t reach them so happily feed with Luna sitting only three feet away on the roof of the car. It's almost as if the birds are taking the piss. Sometimes she falls asleep there, stretched out to catch the sun, other times she sits on her chair and snoozes the day away dreaming of catching a sparrow or two.

It’s such a hard life for a cat on her hols.

The grumps...

 I’m a bit grumpy today, not at all like yesterday. Yesterday was ‘Talk Like a Pirate Day’, shiver me timbers. I spent some of the day talking like a pirate – dubloons, groats, Davey Jone’s locker, and splice the mainbrace ye scurvy knaves – and the rest of it thinking about pirates. To be exact I spent most of the day thinking about a pirate cat who I dreamed up a few years ago and who I thought I might write a few stories about but never did.

In my imagination Kit the Pirate Cat sails on the good ship name to be definitely be decided, but I think that it is either ‘The Dolphin’ or ‘The Tuna Flake’. Kit spends his days chasing the pirate rats that live below deck. The chief rat (who is definitely called Black Jack) is huge and is always laying traps for Kit. The ship is manned by a mismatched pirate crew including a one-eyed, toothless, boson, named ‘Salty Socks’,  who get into all sorts of scrapes with rival pirates, mermaids, native islanders, terrible storms, etc. They are always getting into deep water and are a hapless bunch, doomed to failure, but Kit usually, in his catty way, saves the day and ends up being fed cream and fish by the motley crew who mainly love him.

The ship’s captain, who may be called ‘Captain Scampi’ or ‘Captain Crabstick’, doesn’t like Kit one bit and is always trying to get Kit to walk the plank, although he never seems to manage it…

And that is about as far as I’ve ever got. I quite like the idea of ‘Kit the Pirate Cat’ though.

Anyway, now that ‘Talk Like a Pirate Day’ is over perhaps I’ll have a go at a Kit tale or two.