Party Time

So, there I am last week, getting ‘The Loss of Innocence’ up and published, and feeling pretty smug about the feedback coming from the beta readers. Harley the Chimera Kitty along with Goldie and Long John Silver (normally known as the Gruesome Twosome for their team skills in trashing my office.) were helping with the publication process.

If you follow my blog you might recall how I acquired Silver and Goldie – they were dumped in my garden the day we ‘ran for it’ when wildfires were raging in the area last summer. At the time, I reckon they were maybe four weeks old, cute as daisies and looking for a substitute ‘Mum’.

That was in August, and I’m still recovering from the shock of moving from a one cat household to a four cat household.

So, when I go downstairs to meet a large white and tabby stranger sitting on the towels in the bathroom…

Oh, God… Not another stray…
*Eye up stranger*
Hmmm….
Well fed…
Glossy coat…
Looking me in the eye with that ‘I is a cat and you is a human/slave/operator-of-the-can-opener’ expression…
How do cats do that?
Their faces are covered in fur…
In any case, he’s looking fit and healthy and not remotely abandoned.
Owner at work?
Looking for daytime accommodation/food/cushion by the fire?
*Potter off to kitchen*
*Put down bowl of cat nibbles*
*Wander off again to get on with some work*
Laptop…

Her Mother’s Love
He’s so beautiful, gold blond hair, deeply tanned skin and eyes, now closed, framed by dark lashes. And without thinking about it, I reach under the blankets for his hand, wanting to twine my fingers with his.
And as I touch, curling my fingers around…
…That’s never his hand…

In my peripheral vision, something moves…

Turn… to see large ginger tom stroll into office, briefly inspect me, reject me as beneath contempt, then stroll out again.
?
?
Loud barking…
Squalling…
Chaos…
Ginger cat descends stairs at high speed pursued by large white and ginger Podenco and small lavatory-brush-shaped terrier.
Pursue canine-feline trio, taking steps two at a time, and arrive on ground floor in time to see cat exit house via bathroom window with speed of an ICBM.
Lean out of window to see ginger cat pointing his butt at me, being hissed at by previously unknown black-and-white tom.
Meow…
Look up.
Goldie sits in the acacia tree surveying her selection of suitors, coquettishly wearing her best ‘Who? Me?’ face.
More movement off-side…
Second black-and-white-tom sprints for gate…
Feline ménage?
Don’t go there….
Return to lounge…
… through dining room…
…. Ignore large Burmese-type bundle of fur watching me from atop ironing pile with insolent-Buddha stare…
What did I see…?
Turn back for a proper look…
‘Buddha’ has only one eye; yellow, slitted, baleful….
There’s a green eyed yellow idol to the north of Kathmandu…
Telephone.
Time for the vet.

*****

My vet speaks a little English, badly.
I speak a little Spanish, badly.
We communicate in ‘Spanglish’. It gets the job done.
“Hola, Suzanna. Mi gato necesita ser esterilizado.”
“No hay problema, Simone. ¿Tu gato es feminino o masculina?”
“Feminino.”
“And she is… how you say…? Hett?”
“In heat. Si, es ‘In heat’.”
“You know this? For certain?”
“Si. Los gatos masculinas tell me this.”
“Muchos gatos masculinas?”
“Si. Muchas. Muchas. Gatos en el bano. Gatos en my garden. Gatos in mi kitchen.”
Suzanna laughs. “Ahhhh…” *Raises arms in air* *Waves hands* *Does Happy Dance* “Fiesta!”

*****