animal welfare – Just Life

Hi All

It’s pretty official – autumnal vibes are present. Last night, as I sat at the laptop, Chea adopted her usually position at the side of me – in the paper basket, but this time the naughty bird-killing paw was across her nose.’ A sure sign that the temperature has dropped. Cats like warm ears and warm noses!

And this morning, as I type this, she is draped over my typing arm. I’m not sure if she is just being overly affection, or reminding me that she’s still here and that it’s time I let her out, or just trying to secrete a little warmth from my body. It isn’t the easiest thing in the world – typing with a pussy across your arm but I hate to turn her affection away just for the sake of it. I spend a lot of time in the initial stages of animal ownership reassuring and letting them acquaint with my temperament and mannerisms. Animals appreciate consistency of habit and body language. Having said this Chea is now purring for England, swishing her tail and burying her teeth into my right sleeve. Perhaps the constant up and down, pitching motion of my right arm, has made her a little seasick?

It is now raining, so unlike my friend’s cat, Pusia, ( http://www.justjools.com/2013/08/hanging-cat-out-to-dry.html ) who apparently likes the rain, Chea will not be wanting to go out in this. A shower is always guaranteed to bring her galloping down the path and homeward bound. Unfortunately she gallops straight into the kitchen, meets the tiles with wet paws and skids into the lounge door. She does this every time and never seems to learn. Or perhaps she has learnt and just likes doing it? Nothing much would surprise me about Chea – except maybe normality?

You won’t believe this, and neither do I, but I have to take one of the new chucks to the vet this morning. The maran, Grace, has been snotty-nosed and sneezing for the past week. Now she has started to cough. Shut up! I know you don’t believe me but I swear it’s true. Last night, as I crept up the garden to check on them in my dressing gown, (I was in my dressing gown, not the chucks) I noticed that Grace hadn’t gone inside to roost and looked unhappy -ish. She couldn’t look totally unhappy living in the chicken equivalent to The Hilton but she wasn’t a happy chuck.

I came in and had a bit of a low-key moan to Richard about did he think she’d be OK overnight. He wasn’t very helpful. He accused me of caring too much and winding myself up. Winding myself up! He winds me up by saying things like that. He also said that I shouldn’t have any more chucks because I get too upset about them and can’t just look after them like a normal person would look after them. You won’t believe this either but I couldn’t be bothered to argue the point so I toddled off upstairs with a low calorie, cheese-spread roll, a packet of crisps and a mug of tea to watch Big Brother. Bugger! That’s blown my image, hasn’t it?

Back to Grace … I am going to ring the vet now and make an appointment to take her down. Obviously I’ll come away with antibiotic powder, that costs 2p, to put in the drinking water, and be charged £35 for the sodding pleasure but gone are the days when they will dispense drugs without seeing the animal. So I shall have to toddle along with my chicken in a basket and pay the price. And Richard will come home and ask how the chuck is and I shall say I’ve been to the vet and he will glaze over and nod. But the sweetie won’t ask, ‘how much?’ He never does. He is softer than me. But he would rather die than admit it.

Between you and me – I do think Richard has a point. I do fret and worry about everything with a heartbeat and the times I’ve said that an animal isn’t right and no one has agreed with me are too numerous to mention. BUT those animals have all gone on to prove me right by showing further symptoms along the line. Once you familiarise yourself with the normal it is pretty easy to spot early stages of abnormal. And this is something that, frankly, if you can be bothered to do it, works right across the broad board of life.

Off to ring to vet …