This weekend was quite a momentous one for us, because we finally did what we’d longed to do for ages and got a cat. We had cats throughout my childhood, but apart from looking after my parents’ current cat while they were away, I hadn’t felt that we could keep a cat because we were always renting and therefore in a bit of a precarious position. Now that we have our own house, and Mr. Bsag is often at home during the day, it seemed like the perfect time to give a cat a home.
The new member of our household – who we have named Cleo – is a rescue cat. Despite being a pedigree cat (a Somali), she was stray for an unknown length of time and is consequently very skinny and needs careful feeding up to get her back to a healthy weight. The person who found her said that she was sheltering under a car in the recent downpours, and when she tried to venture out and felt the rain on her face, she’d cry and run back under the car. So I think it’s safe to say that she’s not a hardened feral cat.
We had to transport her a fair distance in the car to get her back home, and we were worried that she’d be really stressed in the carrying box. Despite the fact that we had a bit of a nightmare journey because of a junction closure on the M40, she was really good. She complained a bit occasionally (rather quietly), particularly around roundabouts, but the rest of the time she just slept or looked at the world going past.
She is the most affectionate, sweetest-natured cat I’ve ever come across. She just loves being next to people, getting lots of cuddles and strokes and purring for England. She’s also gorgeous to look at, with very soft, thick fur around her neck and chest and hindquarters, and big, bushy fox tail. It always baffles me that anyone could mistreat or abandon an animal, but when it’s a cat as loveable as Cleo, it’s really bizarre.
Before anyone says, “But I thought you cared about wildlife!”, she’s going to be an indoor cat. She seems to be very content to be in a nice, warm, dry house (none of that nasty wet stuff, thanks very much), and because of her history, and the busy road out the front of our house, it seems like the best idea. So the birds in our garden are quite safe from her. Somali cats can often be trained to walk on a harness and lead, so if she takes to that we could stroll around the garden with her to give her some fresh air and exercise when it’s sunny.
Anyway, she’s settling in well, and I hope she’ll be really happy and secure with us. I have tried to take a few pictures (don’t worry – this blog won’t become wall-to-wall cat pictures), but they aren’t very good. This is partly because the moment you get the camera out, she wants to come over and see what’s up. Consequently, unless you have lightning reflexes on the shutter, you get endless shots of a blurry nose filling the frame. I’ll see if I can take her by surprise over the next few days and get a picture that does her justice.