The Story of Louisiana

I promised you the story of Louisiana, brother to Mississippi, our cat who died last year, and easily the cat our family has owned for the shortest time.

These two cats, brother and sister, one black male (Lou) and the other a brindled female (Missi) were bought from the Cats' Protection League on June 5th 1999 (Megan was only 3, Haggis just 2 !). They were brought home and let go indoors, with the cat flap bolted shut. They did what new cats always do - fled upstairs and hid under the single bed in the spare room, scrambling up into the bed frame from underneith and hiding from the humans, the 2 dogs and the existing big ol' ginger tom cat, Kalamazoo.

No sooner were they in than a huge thunderstorm rattled through, crashing and banging; the poor little mites must have been terrified. The humans were cool with this and let them be, putting down food and water and waiting for them to calm down and emerge of their own accord. It can take a few days before curiosity gets to them and they come out and explore. In a couple of days the brindled girl did indeed start to sneak out and explore upstairs, but nothing was seen of the black one.

In one more day, the humans were getting concerned, as the brindled one (Missi) was now out regularly and still no-one had seen Lou. Dad lifted the bed up and found.... no cat. The house was searched, to no avail. The only way the cat could have escaped that night was out of the tiny bathroom upper window - a 10 foot drop to the concrete. Things were looking bad. The thunderstorm might have sent him fleeing but then he'd be wet and totally lost, not having had any kind of time to familiarise himself with his surroundings.

The humans were frantic - searching the local area, getting sheds and outbuildings opened, notifying the local vets and police, signs up in the paper-shop and tied to local lamp posts, neighbours helping etc. It was hopeless, and after a few days, the search was called off. Missi settled in and became house cat and companion to Kalamazoo, learned to cope with the dogs and learned all the local territory, fortunately showing no tendency to venture into the front garden or cross the busy road out front.

Lou became just a sad tale of "the other cat we got the same day". 18 months went by.

Then out of the blue we got a phone call from the local vet. Did we own a black cat with only half a tail? Brindled? No, definitely black. "A lady" has brought one in and we've scanned it for micro-chip and it's coming up with your name and address (which is something CPL do before they give you the cat).

To cut a long story short this lady who lives over the road and half a dozen houses further up(who Mum and Dad now know quite well) had taken in a stray about 18 months before, which had started begging food and seemed to have no home, and had eventually moved in. She had taken him off to the vets for something and had learned of his "other life". She was now very upset (in tears even) to think that we might think they'd stolen our cat and would want it back.

Dad went over to see the lady, and explained the story about the collection night thunderstorm and the short-lived cat. Obviously it was now plain what had happened, and only that neither cat dared cross the road, stopped the brother and sister meeting up and comparing notes! Dad, of course, "gave" the lady the black cat, explaining that we had never really owned it, and did not know it or feel it was missing in any way any more.

The lady was relieved and delighted (and, as I said, Mum, Dad and these two have now got to know each other a bit more), the papers signed, the database and microchip updated and everyone lived happily for ever after..... at least until both cats passed away in 2008, Missi of general collapse of hind end, Lou of kidney failure. Both had had good lives since rescue, in loving families, and a cat can't really ask for more than that, can it?

The moral, if there is one - a terrified cat in new surroundings in a thunderstorm, can escape through an upstairs, upper window and you will probably never see it again.

Sweet
Deefski

Odie the Basset (11 weeks)

I never did tell, you, did I, the amazing story of Louisiana, brother to our old brindled cat Mississippi who died in May last year. Remind me to one day. Meanwhile, enough to say that the owners of Louisiana (now also passed away) who live not far away have bought a superb little basset pup.

Called "Odie", and only 11 weeks old, this little fella is, as you can imagine, still growing into his skin. His face already has that jowly, saggy-eyed look, his feet are far far too big for him and his ears, at about 6-7 inches are long enough that he keeps tripping over them.

We met them tonight (Odie and Mum, not his ears per se) on our way back from the Rec. Little Odie was a reluctant walker and making as slow progress westwards as we (with Megan) were making eastwards. Dad crossed the road with all of us to say hello, and poor Odie sat down, quite overcome by being approached and then quietly sniffed by all three of us at various points along his length. We are harmless though, so he soon got used to it and cheered up (although he still looked very doleful but that's bassets for you.

Welcome to our patch Odie - I expect we'll see quite a lot of each other in the Rec

Deefski

Farewell to Mississippi

Another sad one, I'm afraid. Mississippi even from kittenhood has had uncertain health. With her brother (Louisiana), she shared a strange musculature and tail formation - her tail was only half the normal length, the last few vertebrae were vestigial, curling round to form a small knob, her tail held downwards like a Springer Spaniel, and her back legs always slightly weak and carried low, so that she had a stoop at the back end like an alsatian.

Well lately she's been showing signs that the back end was degenerating (front end, shoulders, neck, head, front legs always looked fine), and she's been less and less mobile, recently unable to get in and out of the cat flap and then, finally, unable to get in and out of the litter tray. Accidents were frequent.

So Mum and Dad have made the tough decision and now her little life is over. She is buried in the new "woodland glade" garden. She will have a little marker of woodruff (Gallium). We will all miss her - she was a very friendly cat and we loved her.

Deefer

Jack Frost nippin' at your nose

Freezing evenings and cold frosty mornings. Proper frost to scrape off the car in the morning before Dad can start driving. First thing Dad does when he gets home is lay the fire. A pure indulgence - the house has central heating and in fact (Says Dad) the thermostat is in the dining room where the fire is, so the fire heats the thermostat, the heating turns off and the rest of the house goes cold!

Never mind, we (That's especially Mum, but also all three dogs and both cats, plus Dad) love a coal and log fire, so here's a pic of us stretched out tonight after our walk. Mississippi on the left, me centrally (natch!) and Felix right. Look carefully* and you can also see Haggis peering round the fire breast on the (oops - very grubby) dog bed to the right. Look even more carefully and you can see, bottom left a small fragment of Meggie (trust me! it is!). Dad is taking this shot. Mum is sitting at the dining table just out of shot to the right, reading a book, warming her "kiddlies". A blissful Friday night, when all's said and done. The entire family enjoying a real fire.

Have a great weekend

Deefer

ps -* I assume, dear reader, that you've sussed that if you click on the pics here you can expand them up to full screen size and even save them down to your own machine.

A Delicious Roll

Some nice pics for you today. I am hoping that following deep research which established that they will appear in the blog in the reverse order to that in which they were uploaded, I can describe them in a sensible order.

The day starts with a lovely walk through Challock Forest - all dried, crunchy, rustly autumn leaves and opportunities to scurry about. Also a chance for a gorgeous delicious roll in the leaves to pick up all the scents a dog could possibly need. Pic 1 is of Meggie (left) and the H walking towards the camera. Pic 2 has Haggis (bottom of shot) and my good self rolling in the leaves.

I am back in the doo-doo having chewed the sole liners out of one of Mum's favourite comfy shoes , so Dad (if he wants to live, apparently) has to get in touch with a guy called the "Shoe Doctor". It's a dog thing. I cannot tell a lie. I did chew up the shoe.

Exhausted from our Challock walk we are delighted that Dad has decided that winter is here and has bought in coal and logs for some real fires. Here is a pic of myself (left) and the H stretched out in front of it

Fianlly, after 3 years of yowling and hissing at each other as soon as one got near the other, the two cats seem to have settled their differences and are now able to sleep together, curled up on the carver chair, much to the amazement of the humans. So here is photographic evidence of Felix (black and white) and Mississippi (brindled) in case we all wake up in the morning and think we've dreamed it!

Have a great weekend

Wound up by the continuing fireworks

Deefer

Hector and the Hedgehog

Asbo is grounded for crimes against Mississippi - the cat, not the US State. She (Missi) suffered no lasting damage. It was noisy but not damaging, and we three westies are not popular for our part in it, which was to gather round like school kids in the playground yelling "Fight! Fight! Fight! .... Gooooo-orn my son!" etc

Meanwhile, Hector (Real Dad) has amazed my first human family by carrying indoors a rolled up hedgehog, large as life and twice as natural (twice as flea and mite infested too!). Arghhhh! Humans leppin' about and panicking in all directions.... "Get it out, the filthy thing!" etc.

Now, I don't want to upset the sensibilities of hedgehog sympathisers but any realistic hedgehog fancier will accept that they are not the most vermin free creatures (how do you groom and scratch yourself when you are covered in spines?) - indeed, we have read somewhere that the population of "parasites" is actually a symbiotic thing, the wee beasties cleaning the skin layer rather like pilot fish on a shark.

What ever, a fed up hedgehog is not the thing you want uncurling on the shag-pile and taking off at a trot for the nearest dark indoor corner.

More to the point, given that hedgehogs are indeed well covered in spines, how does a westie pick one up and carry it indoors without getting a lacerated mouth?

That one, you'll have to ask me Dad. He's just Magic!

Deefs

In the Doghouse for Cat-Based Crimes

Look at these two smug beggars! Felix on the left, Mississippi on the right. They are the cause of my current misfortune! Yes, the honeymoon period is over and I am in the doghouse again

I protest, Members of the Jury! It does not seem such a crime to chase Felix around and it really was great fun when he sprayed all over me and the .. um... main human bed. Not so much fun when I was discovered , but beautifully fragrant meantime.

Nor, indeed, to have a go at tidying up Mississippi's poo from the cat litter. I was only trying to be helpful, yer 'Onour, when I was seen scurrying down the hall with a great big hard "Richard the Third" in my mouth, heading for my bed

And that's another thing. I am, allegedly joint-owned by Mum and Dad, so why did Mum yell through to Dad "Your bl***y dog has git a lump of cat sh** in her mouth"

I hear on the grapevine that bro' Archie is recovering well from his leg injury and is back to all 4 cylinders. Also that, just like me, he loves to pester his Dad when same is sitting on the "throne" in the morning. Only unlike me, who tries to climb into the throne bowl - Archie's thing is apparently the bath. Dad has to lift him into the bath where he either attacks the dripping water, or curls up happily in the bottom of the bath and goes to sleep while his Dad concentrates. Also, allegedly LOVES being bathed - the water, the shower head, the splashing, the shampoo...... Are you SURE he's my brother?

Deefs

Mississippi the Cat

I am going to try something a bit different today - more than one picture in a posting, see if I can wrap the text around the photo's no matter whether they're right or left justified. Cool....

This is a pic of Mississippi the brindled half tail cat, who I landed on a couple of days back when I fell down a few stairs. I think she is the MacBeth cat who lived with the 3 witches - as in "Thrice the brinded cat has mewed" etc. She (and her brother the same) has only half a tail. The end finishes with a little raggedy stump where the end bones didn't form properly, and she kind of swooshes it around downwards, instead of being able to sway it delicately upwards like "We are Siamese if you plee-ease". Doesn't seem to worry her though. More worried about pesky pups falling from the sky I guess.. (ahem)

Now for the 2nd picture..... (oops - it has shot to the top. Wonder how you get them to come down with the relevant text. Will have to consult the help screens) A pic of me asleep after a particularly exhausting walk in the Rec.

Had a lovely walk today, by the way. I met the beautifully groomed and shampoo'd westies of our dapper friend Mike. The dogs are called Misha (a lady, who made a big fuss of me) and Jack, who totally ignored me. Mike says he "doesn't do pups" And just when I thought there wasn't a dog in the world who wouldn't submit to my charms....

And finally another picture, this time of the three of us, and I'll see if I can persuade it to stay down here. You'll see the results, and how successful I was, but i guess I won't know till I look back on the blog after publication.

I have no idea how that happened - anyway, you'll see it's a shot of Megan (left), Haggis (right) and me (centre), being cunningly distracted by Mum holding a treat just out of shot!

More soon - although I face eviction according to Mum if i don't soon learn to control my bowels

What ever that means

Deefs