A cats got her own opinion of human beings. She don't say much, but you can tell enough to make you anxious not to hear the whole of it --Jerome K. Jerome

If there was such a thing as a Krypton Factor for cats Dave would be a champion. A few nights ago there was a commotion in the kitchen at around 2am but thankfully it was not burglars, it was Dave attacking the cat proof food recycling bin. I put the bin safely out of his way and trudged back to bed. The next morning I came down to find an open food recycling bin and an work of abstract art made from tea bags and crusts set out on the kitchen floor. Dave gave me a penetrating look and I was left in no doubt that he disapproves of cat proof containers. He doesn't eat tea bags and he's not fond of crusts, he was just proving that as far as he is concerned nothing is cat proof. Cats are such wonderful communicators, it only requires a look or an almost imperceptible flick of the tail for Dave to convey absolute contempt. 

As I picked up the debris and then cleaned the kitchen floor I realised how much of my time is taken up attending to the needs of an assortment of animals. We only have three cats, but my mum and stepfather are both frail so I help them with their animals too. Their elderly cat Jessica is beautiful, but she's as wild and unpredictable a tiger and it takes nerves of steel (and protective clothing) to get her into the cat basket when she needs to go to the vet. Shopping for the cat takes far longer than anyone would believe possible because because mum has to examine every flavour and brand of cat food to decide whether Jessica would like it. Then after lots of deliberation she buys the same combination of brands that she always buys!

Lucy is my favourite of mum's three dogs, when she came from Wood Green Animal Shelter she was pathetically thin and afraid of her own shadow, but now she is healthy and happy. One of her parents was a Shih Tzu and the other a Border Collie - an improbable liaison which probably involved a step ladder! She combines the intelligence and behaviour of a (rather neurotic) Border Collie with the build and colouring of a Shih Tzu and despite her difficult past she has a lovely friendly nature. She seems to be especially attached to me, she follows me like a shadow, sits next to me whenever I sit down and when I stop stroking her she nudges my arm with her nose to get my attention - which often results in spilt tea and a disgraced dog! 

Bobby and Misty the other two Shih Tzus are a little younger than Lucy, and completely bonkers. They are brother and sister but Bobby is twice the size of Misty, he is gentle and friendly but Misty is a little spitfire and what she lacks in height she makes up for in attitude. Taking them to the groomers is a nightmare, it's like having chimps in the car, Bobby cries because he has left my mum behind and Misty spends the entire journey telling other road users to go away! She also objects to the car radio, if I turn it on she barks frantically and searches for the people hiding in the car. Needless to say, I prefer not to take them out in the car more often than absolutely necessary! 

Shopping for their food is a nightmare, Bobby is a solid little chap and despite being reassured by the vet that he is the correct weight for his size my mum worries that he doesn't eat. Getting him to eat seems to have become an obsession for my mum, so we loiter endlessly in the dog food section looking for new possibilities to tempt him to eat. Lucy eats reasonably well (as long as no one looks at her) and she is the easiest of the three dogs to shop for. It probably only takes about 15 minutes for my mum to consider every option and then decide to buy her regular brand of dog food! 

The other member of the household is Fred the tortoise who has been part of the family since my childhood. He is probably the most pampered tortoise in the county and there are times when I envy his lifestyle! In October he retires to his winter quarters and sleeps until the spring when the days become warmer again. His summer quarters, an open fronted hutch in a large pen has to be moved around the lawn so that he can enjoy fresh grass and plenty of dandelions (his favourite). Throughout the spring and summer he munches his way through a monumental amount of salad and such like. Mum insists on having a bird net over the pen to stop them from stealing his food and every time it rains my mum covers his run with a tarpaulin so that he will not get wet, then when the sun comes out she adjusts the tarpaulin so that he has plenty of shade. So as you can see one small tortoise manages to dominate the daily routine of the household!

A couple of years ago we made the mistake of buying a multi hanger bird feeder for my stepfather so that he could enjoy watching the birds through the window. It was a success, in fact it was too successful, feeding the birds seems to dominate their lives! They get through unbelievable quantities of seed, sunflower seeds, fat balls and assorted pellets and every couple of weeks I'm dispatched to the pet superstore to buy a trolley load of supplies for the birds! Judging by the amount of food they eat it is a wonder that any of the local birds can still fly! 

I wouldn't be without my pets, but they are not quite as pampered as my mums. If the people who believe in reincarnation are proved right I hope that I will come back as a tortoise because Fred seems to have a happy and untroubled life!

Tears at times have the weight of speech - Ovid

I will probably get into trouble for writing this, but sometimes you need to find words to express the way you really feel. In the last couple of weeks Robbie has said two things that have brought tears to my eyes. The first was so unusual and so out of character that I had to check with him that I had understood him properly. He said that he felt as if he should wear a label saying ‘I may look alright but I’m not’. Robbie has had to cope with spina bifida throughout his life and he has such a good attitude towards his disability that most people don't even notice it - he just gets on with life. So his comment came as a surprise.

He explained that it was very hard to cope with chronic pain. I am well aware of that, but I learnt long ago that he doesn’t want to be treated differently because of it. When I have tried to avoid situations or protect him in various ways I have had my head bitten off and been told loud and clear “I'm not a (insert expletive) cripple you know”. He is determined to be Robbie, a person who just happens to have a disability rather than being defined by it. He can do almost everything that everyone else can; he just needs to pace himself and to be creative about the way he does things. He doesn’t need a lot of fuss, all it takes is just a little bit of understanding and the freedom to do things his own way without constantly having to make reference to his disability. His comment reminded me that even if he is his usual bubbly self with a big smile on his face it is still hard, but in true Robbie style he is ‘just getting on with life.

The second thing that he did that brought tears to my eyes was something he wrote on Facebook

“....as they say, 'behind every great man, there's a great woman', I am far from great, but I would not have survived the last two and a half weeks, without the love and support of Mrs J! Thank you Mrs J, I love you very very much x ♥ x”

I am certainly not a great woman, just a very determined one. I am like a Jack Russell Terrier, I may lack height but I am as brave as a lion and I never give up. Robbie isn’t the only man in my life with a hidden disability; my son has autistic spectrum disorder. He manages reasonably well these days, but it hasn’t always been that way and there have been times when it has taken all of my strength and determination to ensure that he had the right support. Apparently I became a bit of a legend among his school friends because on a couple of occasions I had to deal with teachers who failed to take account of his specific needs. Thankfully most of his teachers were excellent.



Robbie’s words meant a lot to me. I am pleased that he values my support, I often feel useless because there is so little that I can do to make things easier for him. Perhaps just listening and trying to understand is more helpful than I realised - and heaven help anyone who makes things harder for him!

Robbie, I may be understanding but I don't miss much - don’t think I haven’t noticed that the quote you chose was suspiciously close to a Groucho Marx quotation!

“Behind every successful man is a woman, behind her is his wife.”
                                                 Groucho Marx

Revenge of the Roses

I guess you could say that Robbie and I have both become victims of the unusually mild weather. On Thursday evening when Robbie went out to the car (the drive is at the side of the house) he was attacked - by a rose. The rose won! It had attempted to strangle him but he fought bravely and escaped with several rather alarming cuts and scratches. Usually by this time the roses would have been cut back, but until last week they were still flowering and I didn't have the heart to get rid of them. Robbie insisted that the rose had reached out across the path to get him but I didn't quite believe him until I saw it in daylight this morning. It seems that our climbing rose thinks it is a triffid! It has moved itself and it's trellis away from the wall and it is reaching across the garden path ready to attack anyone who attempts to pass.


I took a good look at the roses and decided that I would cut them back today after I had done all my errands. As always on my day off I had lots of running around to do, hairdressers, post office to pick up a parcel, chemist to collect a prescription and of course the usual bits and bobs of shopping. When I got home after all the errands I promised myself a nice cup of tea and a sit down as soon as I had unpacked the car, but the rose tree had other ideas. I dashed along the path from the front door towards the drive to fetch more bags from the car. I successfully dodged the rose, but there was gravel on the path following Robbie's scuffle with the rose. I slipped on it and sprawled headlong onto the drive causing cuts and bruises to my hands, knee and other assorted body parts - it really hurt!


So it is time to get serious. That rose tree will find itself cut down to size this weekend. It is bad enough trying to cope with Robbie and the family, I don't have time to do battle with stroppy plants as well!