Here Comes The Sun … Slap On The Dog Food …

Good Morning

There are all kinds of dreams, yeah? Producing all kinds of reactions and emotions? Last night I had a dream that left me feeling utterly nauseous. It involved a tall, skinny bloke, naked and lying face-down on my bed, requesting that I rubbed sun oil on his porcelain-white body. Nothing overly nauseous about that – if I kept my eyes shut – but then I had to mix the sun oil. Half a cup of olive oil and half a sachet of dog food, mashed and stirred in. Then I had to apply it to his body. I remember retching in this dream and when the tall, skinny, nude bloke turned over to have the oil rubbed on his front, I woke up. Thank God. Not sure this recent migraine preventative treatment is agreeing with me. I couldn’t face Chea’s Sheba sachet this morning and had to cook her chicken instead.

Talking of Chea! She has become a thorn in my side. She has decided that our garden, rambling and long as it is, is no longer sufficient to hold her interest. She now has to go further afield, scrambling over fences, sliding down the neighbour’s greenhouse roof and generally doing all things that will surely land her in trouble. What can we do? I want to protect her with my life. Isn’t that what you sign up for when you take on these lunatic creatures? To protect them to the very best of your ability? I had a very serious conversation with Richard regarding taking her back to the RSPCA so that they could find her a ‘safe’ home, where she could wander freely without harm. Richard, who 99% of the time goes along with all my ideas, wishes and half insane plans, put his size eleven boot firmly down and flatly refused to consider such a thing. He argued that she was now part of us and that he would rather let her freely navigate the globe (with the consequences that it might bring) than send her back to the RSPCA and never know what happened to her.

Sweet? Yes. Very. BUT. It doesn’t work that way. The very second her little tabby body is nowhere to be seen Richard goes into panic mode. He panics by nature. Nothing I can do about it. It is in his genes. So, when Chea disappears Richard comes bleating to me, ‘I can’t see Chea. Have you seen Chea? How long has Chea been missing? Are you going to help me look for Chea?’

‘Give her a chance to come back,’ I say. ‘Leave her.’

‘OK,’ he says. ‘If YOU say so. If YOU think she’ll come back.’

Do you see what he does there? Turns the whole thing around on to  me so that if she falls into a rain-barrel and dies it is my fault because I said to leave her. So this stresses my massively. MASSIVELY! Off he slopes. Conscience clear. Five minutes later and he’s back.

‘I still can’t see her but if YOU’RE not concerned, that’s OK.’

At this point I have two choices. Kill him. Kill myself. Or get in the car and drive to the nearest airport. OK. I know that’s three choices but I’ve only just realised that the airport is a very possible alternative.

She did her longest disappearing trick yesterday afternoon and Richard went into meltdown, peering over fences, ripping holes in the hedge, talking to the neighbours (he’s a bit reclusive usually!) and calling her – loudly. No result. Well, no that’s not true. There was a result. In his passion to find the sodding creature he forced his body behind the chicken shed so that he could peer, goggle-eyed over the fence. All this rustling and bustling scared the shit out of the chucks and they went ballistic, flying and crashing into the wire on the windows. I went out to see what the hell was going on. Richard was hurrying off up the garden, unaware as usual of the destruction behind him and I was presented with two bleeding chucks.  I’m not swearing here. They were literally bleeding. It was then my turn to go ballistic.

By the time I’d found some cotton wool, warm water and wound powder, Richard was coming back down the garden. I let rip. I can’t tell you what I said. Or how loudly I said it. It would ruin my image. Forever.

Chickens swabbed, powered and separated,  or they would eat each other alive, I stropped off back to the house, yelling that if the f*****g cat EVER came back he WOULD take it to the RSPCA or I would be on that plane flying out to my friend Jo’s place in Africa.

When my breathing had steadied to something near normal I took a sneak out of the door. Richard was sitting on his heels, leaning against the chuck cage, looking down at the floor. I think the combination of losing Chea and upsetting me, and the thought that if I did fly out of the country he’d have to get his own food, had flattened him. As I continued to watch him a little tabby, shit-head cat, wandered up to him and started head-butting his knee.

The wanderer had returned … this time.

I had a lovely surprise last week. I’d previously posted a picture of Chea on my fb timeline and unknown to me,  Artist – Shara Sartipi had taken that image and from it painted Chea. Apparently Shara has included Chea’s limited print with three others and they are available to purchase, individually, or as a set (The Kitty Kat Collection) from her  fb Artist page. It is most definitively worth a look. Shara’s paintings include various subjects …


Take care my lovelies x


Shara’s fb link …




18 thoughts on “Here Comes The Sun … Slap On The Dog Food …

  1. Gail, my last female tiger tabby cat used to go out, come back in, wonder where he ound, lays coming back for meals, that included evening when one o my cats were out. Until, she got old around 11 or 12 then sh went out a usual and never came back for two weeks. Whe she did came back it was a nonchalant stroll of something that resembled. Belsen cat. Needless to say w rushed her to the nearest Vet. We never let he out gain, but she. Got sneaky and slipped ou months later for. A coupe if days. She never really got better from her excursions. I guess she knew she was on her way out. I think what I am trying o say here is that some cats have their own agendas and nothing you can do will ever change that, evn if I has previously not been their. Habit. You have accept that there will be changes. It appears Chea has been looking for outs for some time. Hadda ya gonna do? Your suggestion , give her up ( no no for me)’ or grin and bear it! Your choice, Best I luck. Evelyn


    • The choice to give her up is based on me rather than her Evelyn as I know you realise. I’m attempted to save myself the heartbreak of anything happening to her BUT not all life is long. Quality not quantity perhaps? And there is nothing to say that she won’t be a smart little girl and always return. She hasn’t met any neighbourhood cats yet. She won’t be so keen to roam after she has been beaten up a couple of times. We all have to learn life’s lessons don’t we? Cats are no different. It’s a miserable grey day today so I’ll shortly let her out and see how long she fancies that! Haha Hope you are well Evelyn? Thank you for your comments etc xx


  2. Have you considered Freedom Fence? I don’t let any of mine out, we have outdoor penning and scratching posts etc.


    • I think trying to restrict her now is hopeless. She has seen the greater world! She may well decide it isn’t as great as she thinks it is when she encounters a few nasty surprises. x


  3. Hello Gail. I am on Richard’s side. All cats seem to wander a bit, it seems Chaea more than most. The main worry is of course the road. But there’s nothing you can really do, and with any luck she will stay at the back. How about getting another puss, as a friend for her to play with? Only trouble is they might both go off wandering. But some cats just seem to wander. Time and again I’ve needed to go out and called Sam. Sometimes he just won;t come, so, reluctantly, I have to go out and leave him and hope for the best. I can see it’s a huge worry, but I think if you took her back to the RSPCA you;d miss her so much it would be terrible. If she is chipped, then all you can do is let her go and hope for the best. Of course easier said than done. But another puss to play with might take her mind off wandering – of course they both might rush off then you’d have double trouble. I’m not much help, am I?


    • You’re loads of help. I fear though that two cats will simply double the problem and I’ll have two major causes of stress. We had two cats before and they hated each other and had to be kept apart when we weren’t around. xx


  4. You catch the next plane out here, you hear! You can bring Richard, the chucks and Chea too. Not lots of neighbours for them to be interested in. Seriously sounds stressful though. Maybe you should weigh her down with a little jacket filled with lead weights or something. xxx


  5. I’m assuming Chea is still a kitten and not yet neutered? If so you might try locking her up in the house but… that would be like locking a teenager up until he or she reaches 25. Painful for everyone. Cats are naturally curious and they will wander, but they are far more resilient than we humans believe. Once Richard gets used to the fact that Chea always returns he’ll settle down too. I had to learn that lesson myself but now my moggies and I live and let live. 🙂


    • Hi. No Chea is no longer a kitten – 10 months – ish and spayed. I totally agree with you, cat’s wander, that’s literally the nature of the beast. The fear is that she won’t know how to get back but frankly I don’t think they are quite that stupid. We imagine it is sight that brings them home but I’m sure home ‘smells and sounds’ like home. I reckon if she goes walkabout and I put some chicken on to cook with the extractor fan on high she’ll return!!! xxx


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