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!

The greatest gift is our own eyes, sense of smell, and abilities to deduce - Patricia Cornwell

I was dreading going home after our holiday, because I knew the house would be a mess, it was, but it was not as bad as it was last year. We had a nice surprise because my daughter had painted the bathroom and it looks very nice. When we opened the front door we were met by a very unpleasant smell and my first hour or so at home was taken up with trying to track it down. It wasn't animal related and it wasn't the bin, amazingly the bin bag in the kitchen was almost empty. I tracked the pong to the kitchen but I couldn't identify it, I checked for rotting vegetables, but there were none, I had a good sniff inside the fridge but the smell wasn't coming from there. 

In the end I had to leave it and get on with tidying the kitchen and doing the laundry. Then Robbie made me a cup of tea and I sat down in the lounge to drink it. I could smell an over-ripe banana in the fruit bowl and I took it out to the food recycling caddy and as I lifted the lid, the pong was revealed in all it's glory. The contents of the caddy which had morphed into a green hairy mass, had been there since before our holiday! When I had escorted the stinking mass to the outside food bin and disinfected the food caddy, the inquest began. My son was adamant that it was not on his list - a typically aspie response! My older daughter who has a poor sense of smell claimed not to have noticed it and her sister announced that she doesn't have anything to do with food recycling because it is gross. So, the combined intellect of two university graduates and an A Level student was not sufficient to cope with the 'complexities' of  emptying the food caddy. Next year I will leave the cat in charge!

“A man too busy to take care of his health is like a mechanic too busy to take care of his tools.” Spanish Proverb

It is not unusual for me to be annoyed with Robbie -  he would probably tell you that being 'in the doghouse' was an almost daily occurrence! That isn't true, of course there are minor irritations and I get annoyed when he rearranges the fridge, hides the recycling bin, puts things out of my reach and leaves the toilet seat in the wrong position (believe me I could come up with a much longer list!) but serious disagreements are much less common. 

We are a very odd and unconventional couple, but it works, I love him more than I could express in words and I know that he feels the same. That is why I worry about him, especially when it comes to looking after his health and well being and I get seriously annoyed when he takes foolish risks with his health. Yesterday he was at the railway station by 6.10am and he didn't get back to Northampton until 11pm. He was asleep on his feet and in so much pain that he could hardly walk! Nothing so important that it is worth risking your health. A friend of his gave him some very sound advice, I just hope he takes notice.
" .......... She speaketh of kind tongue. The railway will break itself without your intervention, and it will heal itself thus. Will the railway fixeth you? The runes say "bugger off". Do less more often; the difference is negligible."

Death By Misadventure - Well Almost!

Dave had a near death experience last night and it was partly my fault. My favourite meal is liver and bacon, but I always pick the bits of onion out of the gravy, the onion needs to be there to flavour the gravy but there is no way that I want to eat that slimy stuff so I pick it out. I usually put the onion bits in a little plastic bag but yesterday there was an empty crisp packet at the top of the bin so I scooped the gravy covered onion into that folded it over a few times and put it in the bin. I thought no more about it and in due course I went To bed. The problem is that a when it comes to food Dave is a chap who just can't say no (a bit like Robbie really!) and old habits are hard to break, he was a stray for a long time and he still has a compulsion to rummage through the bins. It seems Dave went rummaging in the bin, found the crisp packet and in an attempt to get the bits of onion and gravy he got the crisp packet stuck on his head. Robbie came home very late from a rail tour and he found Dave sprawled on the floor in the hall almost unconscious with the crisp packet on his head. At first Robbie thought he was dead but when he removed the crisp packet and stroked him for a little while Dave revived and by the time I went down to feed him in the he was his old self again. I would have been devastated if anything had happened to him, I love that cat so much.

Letting the Cat Out of The Bag

As I walked into the kitchen the other day I saw a tail and a rear sticking up out of the bin. Oreo is as passionate about his food as Robbie and he hates the thought that any leftovers may get put in the bin when he would be happy to clear them up. I shouted his name and very slowly his rear end reversed out followed by a thick paper bag that had until that morning contained cat crunchies. It was now firmly stuck over Oreo's head, he reversed around the kitchen at increasing speed but the faster he went the faster the bag pursued him! I was helpless with laughter but eventually I recovered my composure sufficiently and released him from the bag. He shot off to hide from the wicked bin monster - his appetite is bigger than his brain!