Meow! Kitty Power

Next door got a new kitten.

We discovered this after hearing a plaintive cry for several hours yesterday afternoon.

Inquiries to the gardener assured us it was a kitten, it was theirs, and it was secure inside the house.

Yeah, Right!

So began a somewhat energetic search of the shrubs and bushes on our side of the wall, even going so far as lifting the bonnet of the car in case it had somehow crawled into the engine compartment.

Meantime, on the other side of the wall, Nelson confirmed the kitten was not, in fact, secure inside the house and someone must have let it out.

No kidding!

Eventually we were convinced it was somewhere in the wild plum trees on the other side of the wall. I got the step ladder, propped it against the wall and climbed up.

And then I saw her among the upper reaches of one of the trees, frightened out of her wits, obviously staying as far from their dogs as possible. Their pooches are quite aggressive to say the least, and this tiny kitten would represent little more than a mouthful.

I reached in among the branches, expecting hisses and claws – but no. Out she came, trembling slightly, and immediately tried to  burrow into my shirt.

We alerted the gardener we had her, would bring her round when she had calmed down and then took her inside and gave her something to drink.

Eventually we got a call and the daughter came round to fetch her.

One of their other cats, Ginger, spends much of its time at our spot; because of their dogs. It occasionally follows me around the garden and likes to flop down in front of me and roll onto its back.

Oddly enough, none of the cats seem in the least bothered by our dogs, and never have been.






11 thoughts on “Meow! Kitty Power

    1. Apparently one of their friends brought the cat and the wife suggested it might have been wild. Based on its reaction to being handled I rejected this immediately, and I have handled a few wild/ferals over the years, with motorbike gloves on two occasions!
      I suspect it may well pop over for visits when it gets a bit older.

      Liked by 2 people

        1. Nope, not easy at all. I’ve done it, but it takes dedication and lots of time.

          I have one here that while not feral might as well be. In seven years I have been able to touch him only if Im combing the other one, and he comes in to see what’s going on. He gets combed too, but I don’t think he understands being patted.
          It’s okay, as I told my husband; he’s safe and warm and has Charlie (the other one) to wash him and play reindeer games, and that works.

          Liked by 1 person

  1. When we were living in Scotland we stayed with some friends who had a cat flap in their kitchen back door—but somebody, not one of theirs, was intruding and burgling their own cats’ dinners.
    Friend set an ambush; curled up with a good book and patient silence on the bench close by the cat-flap (inside, it was bloody cold out).

    Watching TV with his missus we were startled by a frantic “I’ve got the cat!” followed by much naughty words, sounds of a wildly enthusiastic struggle and a loud SLAM of flap. When we galloped en masse through to the kitchen we found him perched up on the bench staring goggly eyed at the flap which was surrounded by bits of leather and fluffy stuff. No cat.

    Apparently he’d noticed the flap stealthily moving and when the moment was right he pounced, and caught cat under one leather slipper. So far, so good …

    … but what he hadn’t entered into his equations was that the cat might have been a cross between a very large tabby and a Scottish Wild Cat.

    The final tally—

    — Big White Hunter: nil

    — Intruding Feline: one pair of leather slippers (sort of moccasins) reduced to atoms.

    No blood was drawn (surprisingly) so we declared a draw …


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