It's getting like a bloody Zoo in here
So, some basic points to be borne in mind.
(a) I'm not an animal person (nor am I really much of a people person, but that's not germane at the moment)
(b) I've never wanted a pet of any description
(c) I'm allergic to animal hair.
With that in mind, I'm not entirely sure how I seem to have ended up - in the course of a single week - with both a cat and a dog.
Actually, the dog is easy. My daughter has always wanted one and, after years of going on about it, we agreed to buy her one for her birthday this year. And as she wanted to go to dog handling classes and shows and the like, it had to be Kennel Club registered and therefore both ridiculously expensive and only available from a house seemingly built entirely from dog hair, after a fog-ridden three hour drive into the middle of the darkest countryside.
The cat however was unexpected. I came home from work on Friday to find the kids standing outside the front door with my mother-in-law (who was watching them) beside them with a small black and white cat in her arms. The cat had just shot into the house during the afternoon, according to the m-in-l, and in spite of attempts to take her down the road and let her go, she just made her way back to ours and then sat on the doorstep until someone opened the door. At one point she seemed to have left, but when I went to lock the door for the evening there she was, freezing and looking pathetic inside our recycling bin.
So in she came (there's only so much hard-heartedness I can manage - and kittens in buckets are a step or two beyond the point at which I can keep any level of flinty resolve up).
So far as we can tell the cat (which is about one year old we think) was dumped by someone - no subcutaneous tag, but her collar has been removed and she knew enough to recognise a tin of tuna by sight and use a litter tray. We'll stick some posters up in the local shops and supermarket, but J asked at every door in the streets round us and no-one knew anything, although the kids in the street reckoned it had just appeared a day or two before.
If no-one claims her, then either we'll keep her (increasingly my prefered option - she's damn cute and sits on my knee for hours watching the very best of seventies television) or J's mother would quite like to have her.
Either way, it's got to be better than being left to freeze on the streets by some tosser (is it any wonder I'm not a people person?).
(a) I'm not an animal person (nor am I really much of a people person, but that's not germane at the moment)
(b) I've never wanted a pet of any description
(c) I'm allergic to animal hair.
With that in mind, I'm not entirely sure how I seem to have ended up - in the course of a single week - with both a cat and a dog.Actually, the dog is easy. My daughter has always wanted one and, after years of going on about it, we agreed to buy her one for her birthday this year. And as she wanted to go to dog handling classes and shows and the like, it had to be Kennel Club registered and therefore both ridiculously expensive and only available from a house seemingly built entirely from dog hair, after a fog-ridden three hour drive into the middle of the darkest countryside.
The cat however was unexpected. I came home from work on Friday to find the kids standing outside the front door with my mother-in-law (who was watching them) beside them with a small black and white cat in her arms. The cat had just shot into the house during the afternoon, according to the m-in-l, and in spite of attempts to take her down the road and let her go, she just made her way back to ours and then sat on the doorstep until someone opened the door. At one point she seemed to have left, but when I went to lock the door for the evening there she was, freezing and looking pathetic inside our recycling bin.
So in she came (there's only so much hard-heartedness I can manage - and kittens in buckets are a step or two beyond the point at which I can keep any level of flinty resolve up).
So far as we can tell the cat (which is about one year old we think) was dumped by someone - no subcutaneous tag, but her collar has been removed and she knew enough to recognise a tin of tuna by sight and use a litter tray. We'll stick some posters up in the local shops and supermarket, but J asked at every door in the streets round us and no-one knew anything, although the kids in the street reckoned it had just appeared a day or two before.
If no-one claims her, then either we'll keep her (increasingly my prefered option - she's damn cute and sits on my knee for hours watching the very best of seventies television) or J's mother would quite like to have her.
Either way, it's got to be better than being left to freeze on the streets by some tosser (is it any wonder I'm not a people person?).
4 Comments:
OMG keeoot puppie omg kITTAN omg omg squeeeee!
...
...I presume that was the kind of reaction you were after, Mr Douglas?
(They are lovely, though.)
That's exactly the type of reaction I had hoped for.
(Un)fortunately whilst we were driving round pinning notices up on lamp-posts last night, we came across a man and small boy doing the same thing - Penny (our name for the cat) turns out to be Marge and shot out of their door over a week ago (hence the enormous hunger).
So she was picked up by the guy last night and taken home to three delighted small children.
A happy ending, I suppose - but I really want a cat of my own now...
You may have cut your fat head out of the that picture but your chubby fingers give it all away.
Predictably, that's the exact reason I cropped the original phioto - I looked as though I was considering sticking the puppy in a well-fired roll and eating it with brown sauce.
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