Cat v Rat.

It transpires that we have a situation. 

This is where I live, its beautiful isn't it?  I took this snap shot the other day whilst walking the dogs across the fields and into the ancient woods, if you look really close there is a couple of houses in the middle, I live in one of them.

Defi above mooching in the recently ploughed field no doubt looking for a dip that has filled with dank smelly water for him to lie in!

The river Wye, so beautiful with early morning sunlight dappled on the surface.  This morning the ducks were out and bathing making me feel that Spring is indeed coming.

The problem.  Gordy is a cat, but not your average cat...

... and when you live in rural farm land surrounded by cows, sheep, pigs and a working farm with tractors, hay bales, silage and all the ponds, barns and equipment of a farm.....

...you get rats.  Now I don't mind rats, used to keep fancy rats years ago as pets and loved them.  I like the soft silky dry - I know that is a contradiction in words but to me they are soft, silky, scaly and lovely - tails, their twitching noses, tiny toes and tickly whiskers.  I love rats, well pet ones, the outside, independent, going my own way, going to eat your shed, live in your compost and under your studio, sort of rat.. not so keen.

That was our Megan in her later years.  She passed away about a year before Gordy came to live with us at the grand age of 23 and she was still going outside to hunt those pesky rats, mice, voles, moles, birds, foxes - she was a force to be reckoned with was our Meg she ruled the house and garden...and parish, even badger kept his distance and only once or twice was an adder snake brave enough to visit the garden and even then he was found hiding, fearing for his life, under the car and was only too happy to let me take him across the lane and put him in the field where he slithered off, away from Meg.  

I like snakes too, they remind me of rats tails.

We are so rural we get all sorts of wildlife, badger, fox, owl at night, pheasants...  to name a few and we even get the cute bunnies, this one was taken a few years ago when my husband had a car rusting quietly away on the drive and yes, rats moved in to it and were very happy in the engine bay for a while until the husband found out and finally had the car removed.  They did me a favour those rats I had been moaning for a good couple of years at him to get rid of that rusting heap of metal.

Our Claude.  Such a mighty mouser.. and ratter.  He is seen here in the final months of his life, he did go senile and took to sleeping in the shoe cupboard so we cleared cubby hole and put an old towel in there for him to lie on.  We lost Claude at 22 just a few weeks before Gordy came here, really losing Claude left the gaping hole that meant we were cat less for the first time in 20 years but it also meant that Gordy with all his quirks, could come and live with us, 

who was followed a year or so later by Teeko, the other problem.

You see neither Gordy nor Teeko are outside cats, Teeko used to be when he lived next door but he only ever went out to his garden, he is a natural house cat and he likes nothing better than sleeping on top of the fish tank or on my daughters bed.  Teeko is also a bit of a wuss and I think a face to face meeting with a rat would send him dashing in the opposite direction tail waving a hurried good bye.  Teeko is also coming up to his 14th birthday so as an old boy who has been relocated to our house we let him be the house cat he wants to be.

Gordy hasn't got the skills to be outside on his own nor to hunt, the only thing I have watched him hunt is flies, of which he doesn't catch, and once a wasp in the summer.  I was confident of the fact he couldn't catch the wasp so let him jump about around it like a possessed kangaroo taking hypnotic drugs and was most surprised, although not as much as he was, when he accidentally put his paw out and managed to stand on the wasp, who in turn stung him in the paw but even then Gordy just stood there, paw still on the wasp looking at me running across the grass to rescue him and remove the stinger whilst apologizing profusely to the poor stunned wasp for letting Gordy annoy him that bright and sunny afternoon.

So we have two cats and no ratters.  Poison isn't an option, I don't like the thought of the rats suffering long and painful deaths and besides we have dogs and that doesn't bare thinking about should they get either the poison or the infected rat.  The husband suggested some feral cats, just a couple that could live in the garden with access to the big shed, the little shed, the garage and we have enough space to build them a bespoke shelter should they prefer it.  I like the idea of giving homes to feral cats but allowing them to still be themselves, older cats needs protection from the weather and someone to keep an eye on them but like to be left to do what cats do.  Hunt.  Hopefully!

I think we are going to do it but now the problem is me, you see the family want them to remain feral and help with the vermin so that it doesn't become a problem, but we haven't got them yet and I want to donate the original cat tree to the shed for them and Catie and Carl are good names for feral cats... right? 

Looking back.....

I have been Spring cleaning in January, old photos found at the back of the wardrobe remind me of how long I have loved creatures with four paws and tails, seems its a life time choice.

A bit of nostalgia....

That was me, the cute one in the front touching the dogs nose, apparently that dog was a bit snappy so my mother - the headless one on the right - was wringing her hands with worry.  The three ladies are Great Aunts I believe, except the one in the middle she was a cousin removed or something like that.  Families are odd and sadly I don't have any contact with any of them any more, but that is the earliest one I have of me and some furry creatures.

Until I lived on my own I never had pets, the odd canary in a cage or goldfish in a bowl but not a dog or cat, I think I am making up for lost time some days.

That is me on the right, many years ago, the little boy in the photo is my son Ben who turned 22 last month (December).  We lived in Kent, a small village called Minster just outside of Canterbury but closer to Margate and Ramsgate.  Both the kids were born in Margate and the husband and I were married in Ramsgate a couple of years after this photo was taken.

The gorgeous German Shepherd dog was my Ricky, my first dog that was mine.  He was my best friend and lived with us until he was 15.  He died here in Hereford and now stays under the bed in a box with Suki my other dog who was his partner in crime and died a few years later.

 The girls.  The second batch of girls as Foxy Loxy and Badger came on consecutive nights and took my girls.  After that we decided to not have chickens as we do live rural here in Hereford and its not really fair when you know you have foxes, badgers, birds of prey, pheasants, hedgehogs and the occasional duck dropping in on its way to the river.

That old black and white boy in the next photo, that was my Claude when he was 22 just before he passed away.  It was his passing that left us with no cats for the first time in 20 years.  We didn't have long to wait before a now familiar face arrived to live here.  We have always had strays, the abandoned cats, abused ones and dumped ones.  They have all had their problems and quirks, but old Claude he was a cat in a million who didn't age gracefully but we loved him anyway.  He was the last of a long line of 9 quirky cats, Gordy is number 10 and Teeko is number 11.

The beautiful watchful eyes of my Izabel, our only puppy (they have all been re-homes) who will be 10 this coming August.  How the years have flown past!

The boys.  Defi, on the right says hello to Gordy who had just arrived the night before this photo was taken, they are still as close as ever 2.5 years on.

Defi loves nothing better than a good wallow in the mud!  I don't think I have ever come back from a dog walk with him staying clean and golden and I always joke that this dog could find a puddle in a desert!

Defi, Gordy and Iz.  Just one of my favourite photos.

The famous little cat himself, or should that be infamous?  Gordy.

..and our newest member of the pack, well the four pawed pack anyway, Teeko the old man Birman cat, he of the blue eyes and the 'look'.  He makes me laugh when he looks at Gordy with the bemused 'really you are a cat?' look.

Teeks, as we call him, or Tick Tock, doesn't do very much he will be 15 in April and I think he was born an old man cat as his ways are very sedentary and slow.  This cat needs to cat nap for 10 hours a day, at least, to be able to sleep though the night.  Like Gordy, Teeks is a house cat now that he lives with us (he is a natural house cat as when he lived next door he never left his garden and only went out there because he didn't have a litter box in the house). We have known him for the best part of 10 years as he was our neighbours cat and both my kids and I have taken care of him, visiting him and feeding him, sitting in the sunshine on his old deck in a beautiful garden with fish pond and Monet bridge over for many weeks at a time whilst they visited their other home in Spain.  Now they have moved permanently Teeko lives with us and when not snoozing on my daughters bed he likes to sit on the top of the fish tank in the living room and watch Gordy try and figure out how to get up there!

January's Spring Clean.

 Blowing the dust of my blog is just one of the areas I have been Spring cleaning in my life since we stepped into 2016. The kids are still refusing to leave home and now even talk about the high cost of rent and how they have an easier time at home with servants... that would be me then, chief washer upper, clothes picker upper, clothes washer, hoover pusher, but not shopper or cook as those skills still elude me.  One of my new ideas for this brand new year, is to learn to cook, last year (2015) I actually conquered the intricacies of cooking an omelette and to date I have cooked at least three, one of which my son actually said was good.  He was starving at the time, been at work for 12 hours and was chilled to the bone and just wanting food, but I will take my cooking compliments where I can get them.

Last week I got stuck into clearing the wardrobe, ten years of piling 'stuff' in a walk in triple doored cupboard of a wardrobe, in a modern house it would be called the small bedroom.  I love this space and have used it to store an air-con unit my husband insisted on getting back in 2008 (or so) which was probably only used that one summer and since been stored due to lack of summer heat.  On top of the air con unit is Aslan, a massive handmade (6ft with tail) lion that was made for me when I was a child and I refuse to throw away so Aslan has been carted from one side to the country to another and stuffed in a variety of wardrobes and under beds.

Charley at 17

Charley approx 1 year old.

With Aslan and other stuffed toys I can't part with including my kids first teddies from when they were small, is shoes, camping equipment, a plastic skeleton for Halloween, the carved wooden elephant chair with the rattan seat my husband inherited from his Grandmother when she died, thought to be worth something but its one of those 'pick one up from eBay for £50 on a good day pieces of furniture....  old canvas' from my painting days amongst the discarded dog hairs that are embarrassingly large balls of hairy dust and the big box of photos and things that I have kept from the early 1990's when my kids were born.  The first paintings, old school reports and lots of photos of my daughter (and son!) which show her off to be the ugly bug she was as a baby.  Charley, my daughter, was helping me sort through the wardrobe, she was instrumental in getting me to throw away most of my clothes that were outdated, threadbare, washed out and seriously tired.  She moaned at me a lot that day for not wearing the lovely collection of clothes she has brought for me over the last 12 months, her being the shopper of the family.  We laughed at her in the photos, covered in chocolate, sat in the washing basket, or my favourite of her in the garden trug looking miserable and fed up - she still hates being outdoors in the fresh air doing jobs around the garden and at 20 can honestly say she has never cut the grass!  That saying, ugly baby beautiful child, is right from an ugly bug she did turn out ok.

Some one cute and dribbly just laughed and laughed... and kept out of the way of any clearing out. 

 Gordy plays a huge part in my life as does Teeko, Izabel and Defi, both the latter having been in the wars this week, Iz has a black eye from a fight down at the river (which she didn't start) and Defi managed to catch his nail on one of his front paws the following day and has been limping, when you stand near the treat box,  when he thinks he might get some sympathy.

Teeko has been snoozing on top of the fish tank letting the heat warm his old bones.

So this blog is going to about them and me, what we get up too, the trials and tribulations of living with an older cat, a cat with special needs, one dog with separation anxiety and the other that loves to roll in ..... stuff!

Until next time from Dust, Dribble and Dog hairs, long may the hoover suck!