Domesticali

Me-yew

I'm not Toast's favourite owner today.

We had to make our annual pilgrimage to the vee ee tee for injections which would be bad enough, but also involves cat prison (the pet carriers) and a ride in the car. Yowl city. The vet is actually within walking distance, but I would need to load them into the wheelbarrow to get them there. I love my moggies, but I'm not sure I'm ready to be famous in the village as that crazy wheelbarrow cat woman.

They will get over it. I bought salmon for supper.

 

Licked

Stumbling into the dark bathroom this morning, my toes encountered something odd something making a sticky slurping sound as my bare feet met it. Once my eyes had adjusted to the light I could see the floor was shiny - as if someone had spilled a sugary drink. Ewww, was it slugs? And then, behind the cat's water bowl, I discovered the source.

One of the cats must have liberated the dayglo lollipop from a party bag secreted in my offspring's lairs. Though exactly who decided they might take a little lick and then proceed to enjoy the spoils all over my bathroom floor remains a mystery. 

In an effort to flush out the criminal, I have held the offending lolly in front of both cats and not one tongue has appeared. Clearly they are smart enough not to incriminate themselves. Either that or they have already consumed quite enough sugar for one day.

A quick google shows perhaps this behaviour is not as odd as I might have thought. Who knew?

Halloween weekend preparations

We always indulge in a smidgen of Halloween decorating - nothing too over the top, because it's only up for a day or two, but we like the house to look festive for the trick-or-treaters. So the front hall is the logical place to focus any decorating efforts. 

After seeing Monica's advent calendar last Christmas, I began to collect tins with a view to making one here. But I have stalled in my efforts, and 'boo' requires far fewer than 24 tins! The letters were a template from The Graphics Fairy and I picked all the orange sweets out of a tin of Quality Street. I also ate all the blue ones as a public service, because I'm the only one who really likes coconut and I'm very selfless. The trick-or-treaters will get the strawberry creams, which nobody likes.

This is the view from our front door.

See the mouse on the half-landing? A download from Martha Stewart. But there's been a little problem - an after dark stealth attack - note the absence of one tail?

 

I wonder who the culprit could be? 

That's Toast's innocent look, but it's not fooling anyone. Guess she didn't fancy a strawberry cream either.

Meet the family

A long overdue introduction. The ginger chap on the left is Reggie. His original name. And the tabby girl on the right is Toast.

So, after several weeks of cat ownership, what can I tell you?

1. I thought we weren't going to be allowed to take them home at all when Johnny asked in a loud voice at the animal shelter 'Mummy, can you eat cat?'.
2. Naming by committee is a dangerous thing. Toast was half of the 'Marmalade and Toast' suggestion by Anne. I feel I will be explaining that name choice for some time...
3. Confronting a litter tray first thing in the morning is a real downer. They are now free to roam outside, but somehow still prefer the indoor facilities. I am on a mission to put an end to this.
4. They are camera shy. How did I not think to have screen-tested them before we adopted?! But then, I also failed to put 'as photographic props'  on the form where it asked why you wanted to re-home a cat.
5. The 'no cats on the beds when we are sleeping' rule lasted about ten seconds. I think I have pushover in cat runes tattooed on my forehead.
6. Reggie's favourite way of getting attention is to plonk his furry backside on top of the computer mouse. Evidently, being scratched with the left hand is not good enough. My keyboard is getting rather hairy.

We're adopting!

Yes, it's true. The four legged feline variety. Or in our case 2x4.

The only slightly worrying thing about them is their names.

Yes, Reggie and Ronnie.

I think they may have to be re-christened. Veggie and Bonnie?

Unless of course you have better suggestions. And somehow I feel you might. The boy is a big handsome ginger fellow and the girl is a small pretty tabby. Johnny is keen on calling them both Colin. Honestly, naming is not our strongest suit.

We pick them up next Saturday. And on Sunday I morph into dotty woman who takes too many pictures of her cats.