In October I went to the pet shop to get some food for my 2 Cats Roger a Norwegian Forest Cat and Emma a lilac Burmese. Roger by the way rules my world and Emma rules his so you have the dynamic of the pecking order in my family. Which reminds me of the chickens I had to sadly leave behind in Canberra in September last. I had brought up as chicks in November 2009. Brownie and Hopperty plus 4 others. Hopperty was so called because she has a deformed foot but a lovely bird just the same though my partner of the time was not so keen. Gee I even had them in a cat box on a table beside my pillow in the first 2 weeks as it was a bit cold to put them outside. My partner of the time who curiously and sadly has a very angry outlook on life was away on holiday so I was able to secretly get away with that. But I digress so more about that in another post.
So there I am in the pet shop. It just so happened I had been thinking about the purchase of a marmalade cat for some time. I have a policy [now] of only getting “rescue cats” Well I find myself drawn to those that have been abandoned like the 2 aforementioned Emma and Roger Actually I recorded Roger with as Rojer on his papers but with spell checker you always get the sqwiggily red line so I have given in to Roger.
So there I am still in the pet shop and blow me down there in the very box I had found Emma in 5 years before was Tommy.
But first there is a bit before my arrival.
This is what happened.
I was at a loose end one afternoon (I was having 3 times weekly medical centre and hospital appointments ) So this time after an appointment and feeling a bit down I thought I would take a drive to the pet shop miles away and just to see if they had a Ginger Tom. There is actually a Pet shop or two within walking distance. I didn’t think I was really serious about “the search” just some romantic notion about a marmalade cat which I have always been partial to since being introduced not so long ago to the illustrations and story of Orlando.
So I get there.
Well blow be down, there he was. He had a label that said “Ginge” but let me assure you he told me his name was Thomas aka Tom aka Tommy. He had been there 3 weeks. His owner had died of cancer and had instructed in her will that in the event of her death he be as the Vet put it “euthanased” …Well how could I not take him home with me? So a few well placed calls and a bit of manipulation I cajoled my friend to come look see. It just so happened I had the Cat basket with me. So Tommy, now sometimes called Tom Kitten on good day, joined the gang. I say gang because now he also goes by the name “bad cat”.
Well on the day illustrated I had found the dinosaur that my boy Robbie had made for me when (he says in year 2) which makes it about 1991.
As you can see cat and dinosaur had a coming together, with the dinosaur coming out on top. Umm bad dinasour meets bad cat.
Next time: my chickens and some tips about how to look after them; Roger and Emma and how cats can connect you with your neighbourhood (our neighbourhood really is cat paradise, every other house seems to have one); and my rabbits, also sadly left behind in Canberra.
Yes indeed, old Macdonald’s Farm.