When one of my cats was younger and a lot fatter, he came bowling in from the garden with an almighty crash. Looking slightly stunned, he'd arrived into the kitchen having ripped the cat flap from the door and was still wearing it as a cat-tutu. Did I mention he was quite fat?
In honour of Jake, a well loved cat, who died on Wednesday, tell us your pet stories and cheer us up.
(, Fri 8 Jun 2007, 9:15)
« Back
I have two of the most expensive cats ever, fact. Not because they've had big vets bills (they are insured against such eventualities), but because I had to get a mahoosive mortgage to buy a house so that I had somewhere to put them - landlords don't seem to like pets 'round these here parts.
But anyway. I got them as teeny tiny ickle kittens when I was suffering from a bit of a losing of the plot a while back. They spent the first nine weeks of their lives in a rescue place, and the next three months sleeping on me while I slept on the sofa. After a little while, as they and I got braver, I accepted that I'd have to let them out of the house at some point, and so I started training them to come to me when I called them. My principal weapon was a glass jar filled with 'Thomas' brand* kitty treats.
This was quite a long process, started in the house, then in increasing stretches of garden, cunningly blocked off so they couldn't escape. A hell of a lot of effort went into this. And it has basically proved itself to be nothing more than a complex reverse training procedure. Y'see, they've sussed that IF they come when I call, they'll get a treat. Should they decide not to, why, they shall go without. Particularly around dusk, when I am trying to get them in for the night. I have been trained to provide snacks on demand.
On a soppier note, they helped me find the plot and we are all healthy and happy, we all go outside, and we all eat treats. Badger sleeps under the covers with me, Mushroom pins my (very long) hair to the pillow and keeps me where he wants me over night. Mushroom hasn't yet got over his fascination with a flushing toilet (one damned good reason to always put the lid down - the sight of a tiny white kitten with blue eyes swirling in a vortex is not one to remember often) and Badger is the gothest of all Alice Cooper cats with his lovely black eye liner. They're 21 months old now, and I dearly hope I have them for many years to come. Well worth the spanking great mortgage, honest.
*other branded snacks are available
(, Mon 11 Jun 2007, 14:49, closed)
« Back