Two cats, instant madness, no waiting.

The little one did something awful, I forget what, and attempted to make up for it by bringing me half a hot cross bun.  I’m still holding out for the wrapped chocolate bar.  Or an Easter egg perhaps, which would be preferable to the turkey bone I got this morning.

I went next door to deliver the children’s eggs and got an interesting neighbour’s eye view of the joys of having two cats next door.

For some years we have looked after Pascha, the neighbour’s budgie while they went on holiday.  Yes I know a budgie is an Australian but the neighbours are Russian, hence the name.  When I’m looking after him I call him Pascha cobber, which probably only confuses him. 

As soon as the cats moved in I warned the neighbours, who like to take Pascha into the garden and leave the door of the cage open.  Pascha cannot fly, he had cancer in a wing and had to have the flight feathers cut off.  He likes to climb out on top of his cage and talk to anything passing overhead, including sparrow hawks and aircraft.  Since the coming of the cats he’s been out of doors safely shut inside his cage but my neighbour popped inside for just a moment and returned to find the cage on its side with both cats sitting on top.

Pascha was happy, he thought they wanted to play.  Rustle (the big son) would have brought him back intact to make friends with, as he did with the mouse but naughty miss Cleo would have invited him to dinner in a flash.

Thank goodness the neighbours kept the cage shut!

They told me the cats have also been sitting on their drive nerving themselves up to cross the busy road and did so, under the wheels of all the cars.

All of which was interesting news to our local cat herder when he got back from seeing his off/on girlfriend.

Does this mean he will spring out of bed early in the AM to look after the little furry troublemakers and keep them from harm?  As it is eleven in the morning and I’m the only one up and have just had to wrestle the cat for another thin swallow-and-choke turkey bone,  brought in a minute ago, apparently not.

My husband has just suggested a customs post by the cat door, to apprehend and remove contraband,  manned by trained dogs or dogged by untrained men, no doubt.

I think in a family the ideal balance is one, small, well behaved animal to lots of humans, that is if you have to have an animal as a pet at all.  Personally I prefer pot plants; you don’t have to have a funeral every time they die, which they do quietly on a windowsill, out of the way.


JaneLaverick.com – furbrained.

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