Tags: carys

crazy cat lady

Cats in the Garden



Sasha cat, it must be said, is going through a demon digger phase, meaning that any new plantings that grow will not only make Darwin proud, but be eligible to emerge to the strains of the Rocky theme music.

Carys Socks is also going through a camera shy phase, which is a shame as she is turning into such a pretty (huge!) cat.

I love my girls!
love cats

State of the Girls

Chief among my saved sellers on eBay is a company that makes collar tags. They are very good indeed - cheap, accurate and my last order came within 24 hours. I also have a place that sells low-priced kitty safety collars. It is safe to say that I am making these guys rich.

Technically speaking, Sasha Lou is.

Not that she has any money, you understand, but she loses collars like people change their socks. Occasionally they show up again when we do some gardening in some generally unattended spot. Once, one was found by our neighbour's hedge, tangled in the branches. The rest may well be in the snarl of undergrowth which leads to the woods and field behind our back fence, in which case they are probably staying there, short of us obtaining machetes and l33t kitty collar detectors.

Sasha Lou loves the outdoors and exploring. She and Carys Socks agitate severely to be let out first thing in the morning and then, if the day is fine like today, spend much of their time zooming around the garden, chasing one another, leaves and small creatures. Only Sash goes further abroad, often for hours at a time, often coming back ravenous, covered in cockle burrs and dew, collarless.

Carys Socks is a little scaredy-cat who has only once made it over the fence (then shot back up and over again, like a cannonball, when a neighbour-cat went over) and onto the fence about 3 more times. If Mummy Sasha isn't around to play with (on patrol) and there is nothing a-buzzing or a-crawling, she runs inside and meeps at me until I do something interesting. She mopes, sleeps under bushes and at least once a day rushes in, tail fat, close to the ground, up the stairs but via between my legs, for example if one of the nieghbours sneezes in their garden or a dog barks in the distance. Poor girl!

Needless to say, she still has her original collar. However, I really hope she grows out of her fearfulness and starts to get more out of life like her Mum. The collar and tag vendors are depending on her.
ipurr

Grooming = Srs Bidness







At times, I get the impression that I am a mere servitor and intruder upon a feline love-in.

Incidentally, Carys Socks appears to be every bit as big as Sasha already... and still growing.
ipurr

My Life...



Kitten Up A Christmas Tree




Kitten With the Horn

Think of me, desperately distracting the pair of them from their new, favourite pursuits (today included an hour long session involving a Wubba and a cat tunnel - note the including).

We rescheduled Sasha's spaying for Friday, weather permitting and Carys Socks is occasionally almost calm or at least not a complete maniac all of the time.

Oh, and based on my Mum and Sue's visit this weekend, they don't mind visitors.-who-stay-longer-than-a-couple-of-hours more than the next cat.

May yet survive.
ipurr

Further Adventures of...

I. The Amazing Houdini

Carys Socks and Sasha had to go to the vet yesterday. They were not keen. Caz is still enough of an innocent in the ways of the world that we chose to crate her up first and this was done reasonably easily. As she also rapidly forgives and forgets any traumas and insults afforded her, she also meritted the cardboard cat carrier. We bought this to supplement the normal plastic one after the last visit to the vet when dr_mitch's arm was nearly wrenched out of its socket carrying both together. In she went, meeping in protest.

Sasha was not nearly so easy. She saw the cat carrier and took to her heels. For a full 20 minutes she hared up and down the stairs eluding our evil grasps. Eventually she was cornered in the kitchen and neatly put into her box.

Then dr_mitch noticed that Carys was out of hers, sitting on a kitchen chair delightedly watching the circus. Yes, she had clawed her way out of the cardboard carrier. Lucky it happened at home.

Cue 2 fat kittens crammed into the one crate and hefted all the way to the vet. On foot as there were no taxis to be had reliably due to it being Eid al-Adha (which is another tale).

II. Spider-Cat

They forgave us. Treats were eaten, balls were thrown, catnip and computer mice were molested, lovey fits were requested and administered, sleeping was undertaken - the usual. Then, when evening rolled around, we wondered where Carys had got to. dr_mitch went upstairs and saw that the spare room door was open, so he had a look in there.

But where was Carys? Oh. There. Double take.

We have (although it is starting to look like had) textured wallpaper in our house, the kind that is sort of made of raised patterns in polystyrene. No, it's fairly liveable really, probably better than what I would have chosen. We're stuck with it for a while anyway.

Apparently it also makes a rather acceptable kitten climbing-wall. Yes, there she was, 6 feet in the air, all four sets of claws hooked into the raised texture parts and gaining on the ceiling.

Um... well done, small, dark force of destruction.

III. Sasha-cat

The equipoise of feline decorum. My foot. Apart from being in heat all last week (she gets fixed on 1st December, never fear) and those details are not fit to be typed out here.

IV. ?

Naturally, I have plenty else going on right now. Truly.
ipurr

Dem Queets

Life with 2 kittens is still... eventful.

This is how I like to think of them:



Of course, this sort of calm scene happens fairly rarely when they are up and about. More usually, the scene is something like this:



Note the slightly trashed aspect of the room in the background. Then the fact that Carys Socks is in the rucksack. Then that Sasha is brutalising Carys for fun. Yes, watchful, steady, calm Sasha is a brute and Carys loves it! They still spend hours every day chasing each other around and around, scattering everything in their paths and rolling each other over and over, biting, clawing and kicking. They went through a phase which, mercifully, is now over, of biting each other in the bum which must have hurt considering the yowling that accompanied it.

Both are getting spoiled rotten, please rest assured. Sasha, having just demanded and received a fuss, is currently meowing impatiently for her dinner to be replaced. Carys has taken a break from molesting the computer cursor and her Mum to toss her catnip butterfly around. She is starting to see the point in getting a fuss too. They are still devoted to one another and seem to quite enjoy having a pair of trained apes at their beck and call.

Who trained us? Madam Sandy, of course. 8 weeks gone today, but very much present!
ipurr

(no subject)

Tomorrow will be 5 weeks since Sandy passed away and I miss her so very much. Grief is a funny creature, but then again so was Sandy.

We have her pictures on the wall and I still say good night to her. We planted a pretty pink rose with some of her ashes in her favourite part of the garden, sowed some forget-me-nots around it and howled. We howled next time we did some yard work (bulbs!) and took out the bins because those were activities she always had to supervise. I have just got over the feeling that she needs to be let in or will come stomping down the stairs to be fed or needs to be cleaned up after etc. etc. etc. We only just gave away her food stocks to our neighbour who also has an elderly cat and gave her treats/spare collar/Frontline to my Mum who has a 4 year old cat, Coco.

Tonight we had to get her things down from the attic again, decide which pieces were sacrosanct and which could be reused then went and did some serious shopping as the household expanded again.

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