Seems to have survived ...

On the 4th of October, 2011, I published this sad post about Ratty's close encounter with a solid object/vehicle/death ray. Do you remember how Marius and I traipsed back and forth to the vet dithering about putting him down because he was so ill -- and yet so excited to see us?

 
I think I made the right decision, taking him home and nursing him so he had a little longer to recover and avoid the lethal injection.

He's been having continual problems with a fungal infection we haven't been able to eradicate -- so far -- and has spent the last five months in and out of his bonnet, on various expensive drugs:

In spite of these setbacks, he is flourishing.  

The four cats are finding their new roosting spots and working out their new battle-lines, but they all seem to be very happy in the new house with its magnificent garden and multiple climbing opportunities.

Ratty has claimed a shelf in the pantry, right next to the street cat food:

 

 While Ming has her private quarters nearby (but higher up, naturally):

Ratty continues to be closely attached to me.  He'll go to sleep near me and wake up later yeowlling when he can't find me.  Best of all he rather likes to help me with my writing tasks.

 

 There are still a few boxes to negotiate, things we can't find (like a cupboard full of shoes???) and no-go corners of chaos.  Last weekend we hung 46 pieces of artwork and photographs.  I told you we had a lot of stuff.  Marius has been busy in the garden replanting the fountain, putting up hose reels, the clothesline and lantern brackets.  We've bought a few new plants as this garden has almost no flowers, so he has been busy digging too.

In mid August, before we moved, we submitted a request for some extra handrails - one for the front door, one for the carport/kitchen door and one for the steps inside which lead to the dining room.  This is standard procedure when you want to make modifications to your compound house. If the work is approved, we will be charged a 'reasonable rate' for materials and labour. The handrails are for me as I have become dangerously unsteady on my feet and the steps are marble - slippery at the best of times, lethal when wet.  So far we have not had a response.  We would simply go and buy standard grab rails and install them ourselves (well, Marius would do the work while I said encouraging things) but being Exile-land, we can't find any ... 

Marius has a conference in Perth, Australia next month.  Guess what he'll have in his luggage on the return journey?



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They are all well ...

the 'upstairs cats' Macc & Ming

the luxury-loving 'downstairs cat' Ratty, formerly a street cat, if you would believe it

and the magnificent Miss Beowulf - Norse Woods - Doyle, in her favourite fruit bowl:  definitely a 'downstairs cat'

I wish I could say that peace reigns supreme and that the er, tensions between Mr Macc and Miss Wolfe were all distant memories, buried by the hatchet of time.  This is not the case.  Even while I was uploading these photos there was another chase, roaring and hair pulling incident:  very tiresome.

The survivors of the mass poisoning are thriving.  We have lost none of the street cats since January.  Tiny Tim has been sort-of adopted by next door and is flourishing on regular meals.  LG is the healthiest I've ever  known her, thanks to not having kittens I surmise, while Helmet (who should be 'Bonnet'), Scout and Skippy are also doing well. 

I must try to get a photo of Seams before she disgorges her current bus load of passengers as she looks quite funny - picture a double-decker on its side but not red and you have an idea of her shape.  If we could have her spayed we would stabilise our population because she is the mother -- the super-successful mother -- of almost all of the street cats.  She is very wily and skittish and I think, impossible to catch:  I have touched her once in the years I've known her.  I am sure it was a momentary aberration when distracted by food.


Here are some of them enjoying breakfast:

clockwise from the top:  Skippy, Tiny Tim and Black Tom

I know that I have been neglecting you all, and my blogs, for the last little while, which I apologise for.  Thanks for your continuing interest in our sagas.  As for me,  I think you can fill in the gaps ...  next week I go in for an experimental treatment which might help.

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Ming

Drawn with the mouse - which must be appropriate! 

For all of you who may have a need to procrastinate, Prima told me about this site called 'Scribbler' that turns one's doodles into ...  I was going to say 'Art' but I think 'scribbles' is more apt.  I would love to have a stylus and a tablet to experiment with as the  tethered mouse is awkward, to say the least. 

Thank you for all your good wishes during my absence.

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More Adventures in Cat-land

Don't wring your hands in anxiety - the cats are all well and flourishing.

Little Guy (LG) is growing fuzz where she was shaved for her operation.  Her wound is healed and she is her normal bouncy self.  She continues to neglect her kittens and cast herself at the tomcats.  She is of no interest to them (thankfully!) which is good for her long-term health, even if she is suffering from short-term confusion and rejection. 

LG and Ratty are back hanging out together on the doorstep, still the best of pals.  Ratty has not recovered his former strength - he can't leap up onto walls, only onto comfy chairs and laps.

I have been in hospital this past week having infusions every morning and coming home about 10 o'clock, which has rather upset Ratty's routine.  On Sunday (first day of the week here) when I came home Ratty was sitting on the doorstep with LG.  This was the first time he has climbed out of the garden since his second illness.  He was happy to see me and skipped inside.  On Wednesday I came in, noted Ratty sitting under the table and almost immediately went out again to visit a friend on the compound.  When I got home an hour or two later, Ratty was no where to be seen.  It was a lovely day so I thought perhaps he was in the garden with the other cats, and I was very tired.  I lay down on the couch thinking Ratty will come and join me, as he always does, and promptly fell asleep. (Please note I get up at 4 40 am to get to the hospital for 6 am, and the treatment is exhausting so I am allowed to have a sleep.  In fact I need to have a sleep every day.) 

My conscience woke me up.  No Ratty.  I forced myself up and had a look in the garden for him.  No Ratty.  I knew he would not be upstairs if I was downstairs, which meant he was probably out on the compound somewhere, and possibly in trouble.  I went for a walk along the golf course road.  There was no one around to hear me call 'Ratty', feeling slightly foolish.  There were lots of peacocks about but no cats. 

Then I heard a voice, and saw one of Seams's May kittens, who came out of the trees to ask for a handout, but I didn't think it was his (probably a male) voice I'd heard.  A few metres further on was Ratty, sitting up and maowing.  I called again and he came running towards me, maowing furiously.  But, he couldn't get to me, and I could see why he hadn't come home:  at that point, the surface of the golf course is about one and a half metres below the surface of our road - so he was facing a two metre high concrete wall.  What to do?

I knew that about 300 metres back towards the club house, the ground rises and at one point, the golf course is actually slightly above the top of the retaining wall.  Could I convince him to follow me along the road back to where he could hop out?

First there was the the group of peacocks and hens to negotiate - pretty scary for a cat of any condition, doubly so for one who is not perfectly fit.  Then there was the Seams-kitten who wanted to keep Ratty off his 'patch'.  Ratty is not the brightest cat in the firmament but he is loyal and deeply, madly, truly in love with me.  He followed me.  I called, he maowed, we'd progress five or ten metres and then he'd stop to have a rest. He tried a few times to jump up onto the wall and crashed back to the sand. Finally I reached the part where the golf course was above the wall, only Ratty was not with me. I called and he answered - he'd managed to jump up and was down on the road behind me, waiting.

We trotted home together, Ratty chatting and me relieved.  He came in and had an enormous bowl of crunchies and then we retired to the sofa, together:

We were quite done in by our excitement.

But very happy the adventure had a happy outcome:

He has not ventured back to the golf course to my knowledge - or if he has, he's remembered where he can get out.  He does like climbing out of the garden and hanging with LG on the front step, and always likes scooting back inside when I open the door for him.  Mind you, he never goes out if I am at home so I suspect some of his motivation for going AWOL is that he is looking for me.  He's at my feet now.

Miss Ming and Mr Macc are continuing with their toffee-nosed approach to the interlopers.  I have caught them ganging up together on Miss Wolfe, which is a bit mean, although she does ask for it.  The other day Wolfe pounced on Ming as she left the kitchen, a sneaky, surprise attack.  Wolfe is a smart cat though, and when I shouted at her, she immediately left Ming alone and ran away to hide.  I could really do without cat-dramas at 5 am.  Really.

Macc and Ming remind me of disapproving parents - I think it is me as much as the interlopers that they are disappointed in:

what have you brought home?

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The Cats at Number 4

Life has got complicated since we returned to Exile in mid-September.  As you may recall, our long term resident cats, Macc and Ming were disturbed in their naps by the change in circumstances of Miss Beowulf, who moved from months of doorstep sitting to 'resident' status.

Ming has always been a shy retiring sort of Princess, but latterly she has taken to lurking upstairs in cupboards:

and under beds.  Mr Macc is also displeased with the new arrangements:

The pair of them have ruled the upstairs is out of bounds to interloper-cats and Macc defends his new border fiercely.  They slink downstairs for meals and then retreat.  At night they are cuddlesome - Ming always ends up under the blankets in my armpit and Macc in the crook of my knees on top of the blanket.   I feel guilty that this is the main bonding time we have together.  I miss their company too.

I was hoping to report that peace has returned to the household, sadly I cannot.  Even this morning there was another fur-pulling encounter that ended with the watering can being tipped on the antagonists.  The fight - for that is what it was - was instigated by Wolfe, who snuck up on Macc as he was going out into the garden.  There was a great tumble of fur and growls and screams inside, and when I opened the door further they tumbled outside to continue.  I kept pushing the 'nulla-nulla' (Aboriginal hunting stick) between them to no avail.  That was when the watering can came into play.  It is very tiresome this constant quarrelling.

And it is usually Miss Wolfe who starts it.  She is a delightful cat, loving, friendly, clever, and a domineering bossy-boots.  She seems to have a plan to eradicate the former owners of the humans.  I think she tries to eat all the food, all the time, in the hopes they will starve and leave ...  it is not working.   She loves playing, pats, being brushed, and sitting on my lap.  She doesn't believe in sharing. 

Ratty is tolerated, mostly because he ignores her and keeps out of her way, while Ming and Macc are threatened on sight. 

Apart from my lap, Wolfe rather likes the wooden fruit bowl:

Of course the week after Wolfe changed status from visiting permit to resident permit, we brought Ratty home for intensive care.  He is now nearly himself again.  He has been neutered and is recovering from that assault, and is allowed, nay, encouraged to visit the great outdoors beyond the safety of the garden.  He comes with us on our evening walk and then slopes off.  We always find him in the garden in the morning and at the breakfast bowls.  He is becoming less clingy and dependent.  For a previously never-domesticated cat, he has taken to residential life in the manner born.  He is actually much less trouble than the grand Wolfe, and although he has raised a snarl from Macc, there have been no physical encounters.

Just one happy cat.

If Wolfe would settle down and stop trying to tyrannise the household, all would be well.


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