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By way of apology

roar

Sorry for downer post yesterday. Here’s something better. Baby lion roaring. (Link goes to some guy’s tweet, in case you’re incurably allergic to Twitter).

Now, if you’ll excuse me, we’ve decided to switch internet providers. I have, like, nine years worth of emails to download…

November 14, 2017 — 9:09 pm
Comments: 6

They shot muh gurl :(

lynx

The runaway lynx turned up chillin’ under a double-wide in an abandoned trailer park (yes, even here) and the bastards shot her. The answer to your next question is, yes, they probably do have tranq guns here, but she was shot by a hired marksman instead of zoo personnel, in the darkness with night vision equipment.

Maybe he wasn’t taking an opportunity to play with his fun toys.

Brits are animal mad — particularly cats — and this is not going down well at all. The head of the local council should probably have a flunky start his car for a while.

November 13, 2017 — 9:36 pm
Comments: 11

Go Lillith!

lillith

Lillith the lynx has escaped a zoo in Wales. I’m sure I heard Uncle B say they’d caught her, but the news doesn’t seem to think so.

She’s described as the smallest and sweetest of the three juvenile lynxes born in the zoo last year. They aren’t sure how she got out, but they think she got overexcited chasing a bird and…levitated, I guess.

This is my chance to post one of my favorite gifs. You look. I swear this cat climbs up air.

Stupid magpie.

October 30, 2017 — 10:06 pm
Comments: 10

Cats! Sitting like people!

catsit

reddit

Not my photo. Not my cat. There’s more!

I’ve seen the quote at right differently worded and differently sourced, but I love it.

Anyhoo, I need some time tonight in what we call the “little weasel’s room”. Some arty friends may be putting together a group painting show in a few months, and I have to see if I have anything for it.

Well, no. I lie. I know what I’ve got. I’ve got nothing ready to go. But I need to shuffle through my sketches and see what I’ve got going on for ideas.

You might think to yourself, “ideas? Geez, lady, you paint chickens. What ideas?”

Well, that’s just the sort of ignorant thing I expect to hear from someone who doesn’t paint chickens, to be honest.

October 10, 2017 — 8:49 pm
Comments: 17

Come into my parlor…

house

Remember the feral cat who was making Jack’s life miserable? We hadn’t seen him for ages. In fact, we started to wonder if the Monster that Chewed Charlotte had got him.

But, no. He’s back. And the reason is: the food I’ve been leaving out for the hedgies. I haven’t fed them for two days because Ginge keeps knicking it.

Poor old boy. I do feel bad for him. Because he’s a working farm cat, they don’t feed him, and a skinny rough old thing he is. But he beats up Jack and then Jack beats up Charlotte and…no, we just can’t have it.

So that beehive looking thing in the picture is a hedgehog feeder. Or house. It’s sold as both. The opening is too small for a tomcat.

It’s not weighted at the moment, so I reckon Ginge could get his head in the opening and toss it aside, but it’ll slow him down enough I can catch him at it and shoo him off. I watch them cameras like a demented hawk.

Funny thing: it’s wire covered in twigs and it’s almost invisible, tucked up under the hedge. But it screams out on the surveillance video, see? Another IR anomaly.

August 9, 2017 — 9:33 pm
Comments: 21

This guy

kitteh

I met this guy at a village fete over the weekend. I was allowed to hold him and Uncle B got some closeups of his handsome face, but I thought you’d like to see the whole beast.

He wasn’t huge, but he was densely muscled and heavy to hold. He noms half a chicken a day.

I asked if he was a Bengal and the owner said no, his grandaddy was a serval. That would make him an F2 Savannah, but I’m not sure the owner knew exactly what he was talking about.

He’s a kinda sorta rescue cat, since his first owner couldn’t handle him after a new baby arrived. You do see orientals of various kinds turn up in the cat rescues here after owners find them too much. Orgs are careful who they adopt them out to.

These guys never leave this boy alone (the wife works from home). The cylinder around his neck is a GPS/phone card because he sometimes escapes (and they didn’t say it, but I suspect he’s worth a lot of munnies).

Beautiful, beautiful beast…but I’m not sure cat-like enough that I want one.

July 25, 2017 — 9:27 pm
Comments: 13

Not my cat

kett

In honor of Charlotte’s return, we went to an open house at a cat sanctuary on Sunday. Okay, yes…we would have done anyway. But it seemed particularly appropriate just at present.

Not quite as posh as the Celia Hammond one, but I’m not sure the cats could tell the difference.

Amazing how many black and black-and-white cats were pining for adoption. It’s true in the States, it’s true here. People are weird.

We had an awesome time, bought lots of good things cheap and had a long drive across an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. (No, really, that’s a thing — it was an officially designated AONB).

This guy bites. The guy in the picture. I knew that, but I didn’t tell anybody. I just sat on a bench nearby and watched the fun.

One of those cats who strings you along happily for a while and then goes full psycho for a nanosecond. He didn’t seem to hurt anybody, so I could spectate with a clear conscience.

Who could have guessed a cat that looks like Hitler would be evil?

July 17, 2017 — 8:58 pm
Comments: 13

The monster that eats cats

prettygirl

This story has a happy ending, I’ll let you know right now. I wouldn’t tell it to you otherwise.

A few weeks ago, our neighbor came flying over to tell us she’d spotted Charlotte, our dear old kitty, in the bottom of her garden in a very bad way.

Dear god, was she ever. So much blood and fur. Her head was so messed up and bloody I thought she’d lost part of it. I was pretty sure I saw an ear in the grass. She was alive, though — panting hard and shocky.

It was a Sunday (of course). I scooped her up in a towel and Uncle B called around until we found a vet on duty.

She’s fifteen. Learning that visibly changed the vet’s attitude but, do him credit, he gave her a thorough exam (including the usual few expensive tests) and hooked her up to an IV overnight. No broken bones, no internal bleeding, no apparent brain damage (still has both ears, thank goodness). But she wouldn’t stand or respond, except to scream when moved. She tore a bloody strip off a careless veterinary assistant.

The only injuries he could find were two deep, horrible holes with long gouges in the top of her skull, like something with big canines clamped her whole head in its mouth and tried to pull her down into the ditch we found her by. I believe now that our neighbor startled whatever it was – which was more than lucky. No-one goes down that end of the garden much.

She began to purr the moment she knew she was home, but that’s all I could get out of her. For almost a week, she wouldn’t move or eat or focus. I forced water on her with a pipette several times a day (she could swallow okay) but otherwise let her be. I was sure she was starving herself on purpose, the way animals will when they’ve had enough.

But after four or five days, she would lick food off my fingers if I offered it. A couple of days later, she used the litterbox (I was never so thrilled to see a cat turd in my life). A few days after that, she staggered out of the back room and refused to return to her sick bed. She’s unsteady and a little loopy, but she’s positively back and absolutely her old self.

The pic is old. I took some new ones this afternoon, but you have to get close to see the scars, and why would you want to? She looks just the same otherwise. A little skinnier.

We’re so very grateful to have our old girl back. And with that happy thought, we wish you all the best of weekends!

July 14, 2017 — 9:34 pm
Comments: 32

how cats achieved world domination

catgenes

I’m taking a life drawing course on Wednesday nights again, making me late to home. So have a gander at this article on kitty genetics that I’ve had open in a tab for a while.

The gist of the chart is that the ‘blotchy’ tabby coat is a recent mutation — like, Medieval — but that 80% of cats carry the gene for it now.

Thing is, I think of the blotchy tabby coat as being a strictly British thing. All the tabbies I’ve known in the US have been the mackerel kind. You know, straight stripes.

Would you agree?

July 5, 2017 — 9:46 pm
Comments: 9

All present and accounted for

tinykittens

So for everyone who’s been watching Corsica’s litter grow up, they done growed up and have been promised to new homes. For those of you on FaceBook, the update is here. For the sensible people who eschew social media (eschew, I say!), the score is:

Corsica & Faberge (that’s the tortie mama and the big black kitten – honestly, he was half again bigger than the others) go together to one home. Hatch & Florentine go together to another. Hatch is the ginger who had to wear a sock for a sweater because he had a wound he kept picking at, and Flo is one of the tabbies. I think the only girl in the bunch. Scrammy & MooShu are adopted together, too. That’s another ginger + tabby, though which is which I can never remember.

My experience is, cats are happier when they live with a sibling, but a lot less human oriented. I’m selfish enough to miss that last bit.

If you follow that FB link, they all have pages you can follow. Kitties pack their bags tomorrow (they’ve teased some kind of special performance) and move out on Saturday. Watch here.

June 22, 2017 — 10:14 pm
Comments: 9