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It was beautiful this morning. Not warm and there was a slight breeze blowing, enough to chill the cheeks but the sun was shining and this far south there’s enough heat in to make taking the dogs out on a sunny winter’s day an absolute pleasure rather than a chore. Then, crossing the field behind the house I saw something reddish…
Kits is our senior cat and an independent soul. She’s very affectionate at feeding time and when there’s a fire lit and thoroughly enjoys accompanying you on a walk (once when I was taking the dogs over the main road I saw a ginger figure stepping daintily along the white line behind me), at all other times she rows her own boat. In other words she’s all cat.
Unfortunately Kevin loathes her. He’s seven years younger and quite possibly seven kilos heavier (let’s just say that he’s been guarding against a famine recently) and he leaps on her at every opportunity.
This sort of harmony is not common.
She’d begun to spend more and more time away, we suspected that she’d found another billet because she was never very thin when she did turn up. This time she’d been missing for over two months and we’d taken to keeping a nervous eye on the verges every time we went out just in case there was a ginger corpse there.
As I hoped, it was Kits in the field this morning. She was comfortably ensconced in a little nest watching the world go by and certainly didn’t have the air of a cat who’d been homeless for two months. She chirruped politely when she saw me and got up making it quite clear that as I was there I could go back home now, never mind the dogs hadn’t had their walk, and she’d come with me to catch up on two months worth of breakfasts.
Her tummy is now as round and tight as a drum and she’s asleep in one of the dog baskets. Kevin jumped her when she’d been in the house for ten minutes and was firmly booted out but sadly it doesn’t look like he’s got any intention of letting her live in peace in the house.
Kevin throwing his considerable weight around. That’s Desi’s bowl.
Still she’s obviously found somewhere quite comfortable for when she’s not here and she looks perfectly content with life so I suppose we’ll have to settle for just seeing her when she chooses to visit.
As I said she’s all cat.
Victoria Corby 
You must have been so relieved to have found her again, though….
We’re delighted, it’s a big weight off our minds.
They are all so cute!
They look nice, their behaviour isn’t always so sweet though! They’re cats!
……. when the moon gets up and night comes, he is the Cat that walks by himself, and all places are alike to him. Then he goes out to the Wet Wild Woods or up the Wet Wild Trees or on the Wet Wild Roofs, waving his wild tail and walking by his wild lone.
One of my favourite stories.
I love some good cat politics. We have it at my Mum and Dad’s with the big black bruiser and our playful tabby cat. NOT kindred spirits. Although when the proverbial hits the fan on the street with other cats/dogs they do back each other up 🙂
I have a feeling that Kevin would happily leave Kits to get covered in the proverbial.