tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43015912688953480202024-03-13T15:55:55.994+00:00All Things CattyJoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-34047049979194586632011-07-07T11:03:00.006+01:002011-07-07T11:22:58.800+01:00Poor Little Arthur<div>Life is very calm at the Catty Guest House at the moment. We've had no guests since last year and my cats have settled down into the loving cats they used to be again. There have been a few times when I've wobbled - the urge to have kittens in my house again is sometimes overwhelming - but I've stuck to my guns and resisted the urge. <br /><div><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><br /><div>About 3 months ago Arthur turned up on my doorstep. He was very, very skinny and obviously struggling to find enough food for himself. He had the most beautiful face and a very loud cry. People nearby had just adopted a ginger cat, so everyone thought this was their new arrival. A few weeks went by and Arthur's condition didn't seem to improve, so I decided to go and speak to them. It turned out this was not their cat - their's was sunbathing happily in their garden while Arthur was tormenting my cats by sitting on my windowsill - my cats hate him with a passion!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br />.</span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626552587698417202" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OPwsribiS6U/ThWHxIvRrjI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/t-PYumdiSpM/s200/019.JPG" /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br />.<br /></span><br /><div>So I started to feed him, and he gradually lost that near death look. This has gone on for 6 weeks, and I decided that now was the time to see if he does belong to someone else or if he is actually lost.</div><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626552576861341138" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wUQwYR-H9wE/ThWHwgXhBdI/AAAAAAAAAYI/tGY2gafbxUU/s200/022.JPG" /></span><span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br />.<br /></span><br /><div>So this week he has been catnapped and taken to the vet. They've poked and prodded him, shaved him and neutered him, cuddled him and talked to him, and then returned him to me. As soon as I got him home, he was scrabbling for the door, and off he has gone on his adventures again. My job now is to find a home for him before the warm weather disappears and his life gets less adventurous and more dangerous. </div><span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br />.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 155px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 208px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626552568188313122" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8nGJtNOred8/ThWHwADtHiI/AAAAAAAAAYA/RFrfZsjyWQY/s200/020.JPG" /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-28475545992114897312010-10-23T16:47:00.007+01:002010-11-05T21:08:52.241+00:00A Bit of a Break<div align="justify">When I first started fostering cats, it didn't have a huge impact on my cats. I had Fudge and Georgie who were very spoilt and it did them good to share with other cats. I had mainly looked after single grown cats at first and after the initial spats, they all seemed to play very nicely together. When I adopted Oblee, I had a short break from fostering as I wanted him to settle in before introducing any more cats. The first fostering I did after that was for a litter of kittens who had lost their mum. Oblee took charge and I think the kittens thought he was their mum for much of the time.</div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br /></span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531275109155878466" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TMMJZ-QyNkI/AAAAAAAAAWs/e9W2Q7VoRGg/s200/018.jpg" /> <p align="center"> <em>Oblee cleaning Bertie Kitten</em><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br /></span></p><div align="justify">Over time though, I started getting new mums with their kittens, and this changed things considerably. New mums are much more nervous about other cats being around, and I had to start sectioning my house off to a much greater degree to prevent all out wars erupting.</div><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /><div align="justify">It happened so gradually that I didn't realise that my cats were starting to get shut out of my life more and more - living outside and upstairs while I was in the living room with the lodgers. When I let my cats into the living room, I had to make sure the fosters were shut in the dining room, and it became very difficult.</div><span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br /></span><div align="justify"></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531275119355037346" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TMMJakQdBqI/AAAAAAAAAW8/Eef8qFFDRo8/s200/Kits+004.jpg" /> <p align="center"> <em>Marina and the Chocolate Babies</em><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></p><p align="justify">So now that Kipper and her kittens have gone back, and with it being the end of the kitten season, I have decided a break is a good idea. Within a few days of having the house to themselves, and being able to roam freely through it, my cats changed back to the loving cuddly cats they used to be.</p><p align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531271324648096706" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TMMF9r30Q8I/AAAAAAAAAWk/bADmCcTgyGY/s200/002.jpg" /> <em>Here's Georgie making himself comfortable. </em><br /></p><br /><p align="center"></p><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TMMF8vZPkvI/AAAAAAAAAWc/cRQxrNwmlUk/s1600/017.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531271308413735666" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TMMF8vZPkvI/AAAAAAAAAWc/cRQxrNwmlUk/s200/017.jpg" /></a><em>Fudge settling down to watch a film with me.<br /></em></p><br /><br /><p align="center"><em><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531271301801633698" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TMMF8Wwy56I/AAAAAAAAAWU/MLF-u6XfInQ/s200/010.JPG" /> And Oblee pretending to be asleep.<br /><br /></em>My house is peaceful for a change, my cats are happy and the break is doing us all a lot of good. It won't be long before the urge hits for me to start helping out again, but I'm going to try to make it to the New Year at least to give me time to get reacquainted with my own babies.<br /></p>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-76925617455077895442010-10-23T16:23:00.003+01:002010-10-23T16:47:24.128+01:00Time to Go<div align="justify">I managed to say goodbye with just a few tears this time. Kipper really is the best cat ever, but such high maintenance! If I didn't have cats of my own already, she is definitely the kind of cat I would want, but she needs your undivided and loyal attention at all times, and it can be very tiring! The kittens are now at the age where they stampede through the house constantly, with Kipper at their heels, and I have started to feel the urge for a little bit of silence in my house occasionally.</div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TML-rPNkojI/AAAAAAAAAWE/pwgMfvrougQ/s1600/025.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531263311135679026" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TML-rPNkojI/AAAAAAAAAWE/pwgMfvrougQ/s200/025.JPG" /></a> </div><div align="justify">So when the RSPCA said they had managed to find a space for them, it was a mixed bag of dread at saying goodbye, joy at the thought of a bit of a break from kitten madness, and guilt at feeling that way.</div><div><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531263312605455394" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TML-rUr_pCI/AAAAAAAAAWM/YaeL3xLplTk/s200/019+(2).JPG" /><br /><div align="justify">Squishy had completely fooled me and at 7 weeks old I found to my astonishment that he was in fact a she! I've never found it particularly difficult to sex kittens, it has always seemed very obvious which sex they are, and when I read on websites about how difficult it can be I've often scoffed at it. No longer can I scoff as I was utterly convinced Squishy was a boy, and suddenly here in front of me was what was undeniably a little girl. As she already had a home lined up, I had to break the news to her new mum to be. Fortunately the news was greeted with joy as a little girl would have been their first choice. Phew!!</div><br /><br /><div align="justify"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TML-qjPSneI/AAAAAAAAAV8/pB-HQBaPGdo/s1600/Aug+2010+038.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531263299331726818" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TML-qjPSneI/AAAAAAAAAV8/pB-HQBaPGdo/s200/Aug+2010+038.JPG" /></a><br />I had a quick check at Bubbles just in case I'd been wrong on both counts, but he is definitely a little boy, with the cheeky personality to suit. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">They went back to the RSPCA at the end of September and I'm pleased that they all have new homes now. Squishy has been renamed Cassie and has her new mum wrapped round her little finger. I often cat sit for Cassie's new big sister, so am really pleased that I'll get to see Cassie too in the future. Bubbles and Kipper have new families also, and I eagerly await news of how they settle in.</div>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-72753115717228560862010-08-26T08:09:00.014+01:002010-08-26T20:25:58.941+01:00King of the Castle<div align="center"><span style="color:#333333;">The Nemo babies are nearly 6 weeks old now and are providing endless hours of entertainment.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#333333;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">. </span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509794353424801570" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/THa4xbVWnyI/AAAAAAAAAVk/4CRgDpjpEjQ/s200/010.JPG" /></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#333333;">Squishy is a shy little boy who loves to be cuddled and fussed. He's a real heartbreaker with a soft face and dreamy grey eyes. He is a truly curious cat who can find fun in a bag handle, a spoon, even an imaginary fly. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#333333;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509794347480503490" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/THa4xFMH1MI/AAAAAAAAAVc/vt4YpRO9YXc/s200/011.JPG" /></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#333333;">Bubbles is a feisty little man who hasn't got time for anything more than a quick cuddle - too many places to explore and curtains to climb. He has very piercing blue eyes that are showing no signs as yet of changing colour.<br /></span><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#333333;">Bubbles might be the stronger of the two kittens, but just once in a while, Squishy gets his own way. Here he is fighting to be King of the Cat-Castle!!</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><span style="color:#333333;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509648729887556546" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/THY0VBYhQ8I/AAAAAAAAAUs/Cy3Ikf_9Tp4/s200/Aug+2010+001.JPG" /> <span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br /></span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509648751787490194" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/THY0WS93u5I/AAAAAAAAAU8/oDInMn5QPEA/s200/Aug+2010+005.JPG" /> <span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br /></span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509649455177116402" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/THY0_PTBqvI/AAAAAAAAAVM/TgVVguhwvFk/s200/Aug+2010+008.JPG" /></span><span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br /></span><div align="justify"><span style="color:#333333;">Kipper, their mum, is just as lovable as ever. She gets very jealous when I play with or take pictures of the kittens, and for every successful picture there are 2 or 3 with Kipper's face pushed in front of the camera just as I'm about to take it. She is still only a kitten herself and plays with her babies as if they are her siblings. I have to intervene occasionally when she gets a bit too rough with them. But she means well, and has done an amazing job with them so far.<br /></span><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><span style="color:#333333;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509798562207647010" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/THa8maRYRSI/AAAAAAAAAVs/_vjvreobvzI/s200/077.JPG" /> </span><p align="justify"><span style="color:#333333;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br /></span>I'll have these kittens for just a few weeks more, and then they'll be on their way to their new homes. The RSPCA in Sheffield is heaving with cats and kits at the moment, so I can't imagine that I'll get much breathing space before the next visitors arrive. But that's in the future and I intend to enjoy every moment of the next couple of weeks.<br /></span></p>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-70553353473821160722010-07-25T15:17:00.009+01:002010-07-25T22:57:41.720+01:00The Nemos Make an Appearance<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TEyuk7CkI6I/AAAAAAAAATs/Fc-p6zJXC0Q/s1600/003.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497961194459505570" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TEyuk7CkI6I/AAAAAAAAATs/Fc-p6zJXC0Q/s200/003.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><br />Kipper didn't realise she was pregnant - I spent the last two weeks of her pregnancy rescuing her from small spaces she had got stuck in, and rescuing my ornaments from certain doom as she flung herself across mantelpieces and table tops, thinking she was a skinny kitten again, when in actual fact she was like a small armoured tank.<br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497849421007582930" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TExI62e-dtI/AAAAAAAAATE/tQR_N5lDXQo/s200/091.JPG" /><br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br />After the longest wait ever, the Nemo babies finally arrived on July 11th about 10 days after the vet's estimated due date. Three tiny kitties, 2 black and white and one grey and white, were waiting for me when I arrived home - I'd just missed their grand entrance by a few minutes. Nemo, Bubbles and Squishy.<br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TExI9KszEfI/AAAAAAAAATk/iOIPCuerxWQ/s1600/042.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497849460794003954" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TExI9KszEfI/AAAAAAAAATk/iOIPCuerxWQ/s200/042.JPG" /></a><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span></div><div>I'd given Kipper the choice of 2 boxes and a cat basket all lined with soft towels, ready and waiting. In true Kipper fashion, she chose to have the babies behind one of the boxes under a radiator on my carpet.</div><div><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497849445513147234" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TExI8Rxjs2I/AAAAAAAAATU/dzJao7lUhMc/s200/038.JPG" /></div><div><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span></div><div>Sadly, one of the kittens died after a day and half - although Nemo was the same weight as the others when born, he quickly started losing weight and despite staying up all night with him there was nothing I could do to save him. This is the upsetting side of fostering new mums unfortunately and I can't imagine it ever getting easier.</div><div><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span></div><div>The other two kittens are so beautiful - they have fat little tummies and at 8 days old were already purring when they were being tickled. When I am upset by sad events like Nemo dying, and wonder why I put myself through this, a purring kitten reminds me of exactly why.</div><div><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497961209813029106" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TEyul0PIUPI/AAAAAAAAAT8/IHkOreqbu-s/s200/041.JPG" /></div><div align="center">Bubbles at 5 days old.</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span></div><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497961204775648978" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TEyulheH_tI/AAAAAAAAAT0/1Dqdm1qEvCQ/s200/043+(2).JPG" />Squishy at 5 days old.<br /></div>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-6616573643860148292010-07-04T21:33:00.003+01:002010-07-04T21:56:59.329+01:00The Beginning of a Fishy Story<div align="center">Here is Kipper, a beautiful young girl who is very pregnant and living with me for the next couple of months.</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span></div><div align="justify"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490152671361957890" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TDDwxDsxAAI/AAAAAAAAARk/0KWH9XZDDCw/s200/087.JPG" /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span></div><div align="justify">She is due to give birth in the next couple of days, and so we are getting ourselves prepared. Kipper is doing this by purring a lot and exploring every nook and cranny in my house, while I prepare several different boxes and baskets for her to choose from in the dining room. She may think that behind the stereo unit is a good place to have kittens but I have very different ideas!</div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span></div><div align="justify">She is a very affectionate cat, although some of that may be due to her current situation, and loves to bury her face in your hand or snuggle up on your shoulder whilst purring loud enough to wake the neighbours!</div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span></div><div align="justify"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TDDwx21yT5I/AAAAAAAAAR0/gXHtHcktO0E/s1600/078.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490152685090000786" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TDDwx21yT5I/AAAAAAAAAR0/gXHtHcktO0E/s200/078.JPG" /></a></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span></div><div align="justify">I usually start looking after mums and babies after the birth and they would normally have been named by the RSPCA. But in this instance I will get to name them. Myself and a group of friends have been battering (did you see what I did there) fishy names around, and I think the best ones seem to be Nemo based. Nemo, Dory, Marlin, Bubbles and Squishy are the favourites so far. Let's hope there aren't more than 5 kits!</div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#cccccc;">.<br /></span></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TDDwxhr3uYI/AAAAAAAAARs/g9UPkx5YfH8/s1600/086.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490152679411267970" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TDDwxhr3uYI/AAAAAAAAARs/g9UPkx5YfH8/s200/086.JPG" /></a><span style="color:#cccccc;"> .</span><br /><div align="center">So here we are, looking forward to the next 8 or so weeks of kitten fun.<br /></div>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-22204605864464777032010-06-27T18:38:00.008+01:002010-06-27T19:19:56.265+01:00The Little Gems Fly the Nest<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TCeOMstPwGI/AAAAAAAAAQc/6WlEPO1q6eI/s1600/016+(3).JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487511019784749154" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TCeOMstPwGI/AAAAAAAAAQc/6WlEPO1q6eI/s200/016+(3).JPG" /></a><span style="color:#cccccc;"> .</span><br />After a very busy few weeks, we finally got to the part of fostering that I dread - the Gems are 8 and half weeks old and are ready to be rehomed.<br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487511029859556082" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TCeONSPRGvI/AAAAAAAAAQs/oskU0jrns5c/s200/008.JPG" /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><div align="justify">They are fully weaned now, just sneaking a quick drink from mum when she isn't looking, but she is fed up of it all now and is getting a little aggressive towards them when they try, so that treat is fast coming to an end.</div><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487517869039676066" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TCeUbYK36qI/AAAAAAAAARc/0-YrnEKMNvU/s200/016+(2).JPG" /><br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><div align="justify">They have so much energy they wear both me and themselves out. After tearing round the house for an hour or so they all collapse in their various favourite places and sleep for hours. </div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487511028689788386" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TCeONN4X3eI/AAAAAAAAAQk/42yJwFys3ww/s200/Kitty.JPG" /></div><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><br />I love it when that favourite place is in my arms....<br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487512565000123714" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TCePmpFTNUI/AAAAAAAAARE/LRXEwyxviYY/s200/011+(4).JPG" /><br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><br />They all have completely different personalities. Some of them dream of modelling...<br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487512560265007698" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TCePmXcXElI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/LMWZ7RCF8dQ/s200/010+(2).JPG" /><br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br />Others just want to be like their mum...<br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">. </span><br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487513702566911634" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TCeQo22W3pI/AAAAAAAAARU/LLwFJ2cHZw0/s200/013+(3).JPG" /><br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br />and others just spend their time daydreaming of all the mice they are going to catch...<br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487513694463646450" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TCeQoYqY2vI/AAAAAAAAARM/2bjKGKBs9gI/s200/013+(5).JPG" /><br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.<br /></span>I'll miss them but it will be nice to be able to have a whole cup of tea to myself again!!<br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487512553919219266" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/TCePl_zaBkI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/LJEpjb7I3Js/s200/006.JPG" />JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-60476958936082874862010-05-20T22:30:00.002+01:002010-05-20T23:10:26.050+01:00History of Cats - The Cat in the Barrel<div align="center"><strong>3. Fastelavn - Norway's Easter Festivities</strong></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 174px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468102079298713026" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-KZ3rAstcI/AAAAAAAAAO8/2ljCpGXRqy0/s200/karneval.jpg" /> <span style="color:#c0c0c0;">.</span><br /><div align="justify">Fastelavn is a carnival that takes place in Norway 7 weeks before Easter. It is similar to Halloween in that children get dressed in costumes and collect sweets from neighbours. Lots of party games are played, and one of the most popular ones involves black cats.</div><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">. </span><br /><br /><div align="justify"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468102075085172786" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-KZ3bUHMDI/AAAAAAAAAO0/4g7kwu7TUG8/s200/cat+barrel.jpg" /><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">.</span></div><div align="justify">A barrel decorated with black cats is hung up and filled with candy and oranges. Children take turns to hit the barrel with sticks, very much like pi<span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman'; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-: EN-GBfont-family:'Times New Roman';" lang="EN" ><em><span style="color:#0000ff;">ñ</span></em></span>ata. The first to break the bottom of the barrel and cause the candy to fall out is named Kattedronning - Queen of Cats. The one who knocks the actual barrel down is called Kattekonge - King of Cats.</div><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">.</span><br /><br /><div align="justify"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 140px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 116px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468110095751260930" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-KhKSn7KwI/AAAAAAAAAPM/hHNu5aWvoLw/s200/fastelavn2.jpg" /> <span style="color:#c0c0c0;">.<br /></span>Of course, as is often the case, this game is based on more serious traditions. Black cats have always been a symbol of bad luck or evil, and in the 15th and 16th centuries a real cat would be placed inside the barrrel. The Dutch Farmers would then beat the barrel with sticks and clubs until the cat fell out, and it would then be chased by all the villagers and, if caught, beaten and often killed. This was superstitiously thought to safeguard them from evil and chase the bad luck from the village. </div><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">.</span><br /><br /><div align="justify"></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 128px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 82px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468110499949348978" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-Khh0YQiHI/AAAAAAAAAPU/zLzI_M_8OcU/s200/black+cat.jpg" /><br /><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">.</span><br />It wasn't until the end of the 19th Century that the cat was replaced by a drawing and it became more of a children's game than a serious event.<br /><br /><br /><div align="justify"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-KhJ8gETzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/OvCW3VDGZEc/s1600/fastelavn.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 82px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 124px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468110089812725554" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-KhJ8gETzI/AAAAAAAAAPE/OvCW3VDGZEc/s200/fastelavn.jpg" /></a><br />Other traditions include Fastelavnsris which involves children flogging their parents to wake them on the morning of Fastelavns Sunday. They use bunches of twigs from fruit trees decorated with feathers, egg shells, storks and little figures of babies or wound with crepe paper and covered with candy. This probably comes from an old fertility ritual and has been absorbed into Christianity to fit with the Easter celebrations.</div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 102px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 118px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468121025091337298" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-KrGdlp_FI/AAAAAAAAAPc/nQi70sdXBzQ/s200/fastelavnsris.jpg" /> <div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-KZ3rAstcI/AAAAAAAAAO8/2ljCpGXRqy0/s1600/karneval.jpg"></a> </div>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-85516942687088375502010-05-16T15:00:00.008+01:002010-05-17T21:47:53.499+01:00Hidden Treasure<div align="justify"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-_9bYIjGiI/AAAAAAAAAQE/pD3_GwzcFNo/s1600/055.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471870719055043106" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-_9bYIjGiI/AAAAAAAAAQE/pD3_GwzcFNo/s200/055.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="color:#333333;">I've looked after many kittens and cats over the last few years, but the excitement of seeing these tiny creatures progress from being completely unable to walk or do anything for themselves to independent strong-willed mischief makers never fades.<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:#333333;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><div align="justify"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-_89N7jNCI/AAAAAAAAAP8/pj-Xky0Cato/s1600/070.JPG"><span style="color:#333333;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471870200920093730" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-_89N7jNCI/AAAAAAAAAP8/pj-Xky0Cato/s200/070.JPG" /></span></a><span style="color:#333333;"> </span><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:#333333;">The Little Gems are 3 weeks old today and have just started to find their feet. They are turning into chubby little girls with loud voices and an insatiable hunger. Here is Emerald, she loves having her tummy tickled and was the first to start playfighting her sisters.</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:#333333;"></span></p><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:#333333;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><span style="color:#333333;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471870723221464770" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-_9bnp5psI/AAAAAAAAAQM/eS-Pd9djFYA/s200/067.JPG" />Their heads are still too heavy for their bodies so they bob them up and down as they try to walk which is really funny to watch. They can't quite focus on items yet, but when I talk to them, they look up and start to crawl towards me. Above is Garnet - very difficult to photograph her as she is totally black. She is the shy girl of the bunch but looks intently into your eyes as though she's trying to read your mind.<br /><br /></span><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-_886LHrrI/AAAAAAAAAP0/ZJ7If5o3a3w/s1600/068.JPG"><span style="color:#333333;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471870195616689842" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-_886LHrrI/AAAAAAAAAP0/ZJ7If5o3a3w/s200/068.JPG" /></span></a><span style="color:#333333;"><br />This is Quartz, the runt of the litter. She is about a week behind the others in weight, and quite noticeably smaller than the others. I was quite worried about her a week or so ago as she was always the one pushed out when the others wanted to feed from their mum. I often walked in to find the other four feeding and her asleep at the side of them. So for a couple of days I would move the other four into a different room for 10 minutes or so to give her time on her own with her mum. Her weight started to pick up and now, although still small, she has become much more feisty and fights for her spot at the dinner table much more successfully.<br /><br /></span><br /><div align="justify"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-_88ojfoSI/AAAAAAAAAPs/w4N2cZuJgNA/s1600/066.JPG"><span style="color:#333333;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471870190887084322" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-_88ojfoSI/AAAAAAAAAPs/w4N2cZuJgNA/s200/066.JPG" /></span></a><span style="color:#333333;"><br />Here is Amethyst, the biggest of the babies. She is the leader and loves cuddles when her mum isn't looking. She has big blue eyes and tries really hard to focus on your face when you talk to her.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471879779783995874" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S_AFqx-q8eI/AAAAAAAAAQU/S9iv96rvqn8/s200/071.JPG" />And here is Topaz. She looks very much like Charlie Chaplin and is the comic of the bunch. She seems to go into deep thought when you talk to her, and was the last of the babies to get the hang of walking. But she was the first to try playing with toys and to turn on her back to have her tummy tickled.<br /><br /></span><div align="justify"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-_88Z5yQSI/AAAAAAAAAPk/XUvYwZEjNtw/s1600/065.JPG"><span style="color:#333333;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471870186954047778" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-_88Z5yQSI/AAAAAAAAAPk/XUvYwZEjNtw/s200/065.JPG" /></span></a><span style="color:#333333;"><br />I hope I have the opportunity to look after kittens like this many, many more times. It really is a privilege to be part of this and I intend to make the very most of it each and every time. </span></div></div><br /></div></div>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-43902879034426402582010-05-05T22:07:00.009+01:002010-05-08T16:51:03.663+01:00History of Cats - Maneki Neko<div></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>2. The Japanese Bobtail</strong><br /></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 104px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 130px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467895744372611666" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-HeNZgzGlI/AAAAAAAAAOM/tMzFynxym1E/s200/Maneki.jpg" /></span></div><br /><div align="justify">The Maneki Neko, or Beckoning Cat, can be found in many homes and businesses and Japan. The left arm raised supposedly attracts customers whereas the right arm attracts money. This makes it the logical choice of ornament for shop owners. They are often made of ceramic and are sometimes used by children much the same as piggy banks are used in Europe.<br /><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">.</span><br /><br /></div><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 151px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468080325518046178" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-KGFb3OM-I/AAAAAAAAAOc/V_wkoL96zJw/s200/bobtail.jpg" /><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">.</span> </p><p>The Maneki Neko are actually depictions of the Japanese Bobtail, a medium sized, friendly cat which arrived in Japan from China over 1000 years ago. They have a very unusual tail, about 4 inches long, that is tightly curled into a bob. They usually have 3 or 4 kittens and compared to other breeds, these are bigger, healthier, and walk earlier with fewer diseases. They are talkative cats and are capable of nearly the whole scale of tones. They are known for almost always speaking when spoken to. (I soooo want one!!). They are very human and family oriented and are very easy to teach tricks.</p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 124px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 124px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468086154183217762" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-KLYtVSkmI/AAAAAAAAAOk/vKXhAXULVLo/s200/bobtail2.jpg" /><br /><div align="justify">There are several stories as to the origins of the Maneki Neko ornament, my favourite being the following: - A very poor monk lived in a poverty stricken temple and shared what little food he had with his beloved bobtail cat. One day a wealthy lord was caught in the rain near the temple and sheltered under a tree. He spotted a cat in the entrance to the temple beckoning to him. As he approached the cat the tree he had been sheltering under was struck by lightening and fell.</div><div align="justify"></div><br /><br /><div align="justify"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 80px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 119px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467895746986878994" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-HeNjQFqBI/AAAAAAAAAOU/XHtAkX0gQwM/s200/maneki3.jpg" /></div><br /><div align="justify">Grateful to the cat and its owner, the wealthy lord became patron of the temple which soon became prosperous. When the cat eventually died, the image of the Maneki Neko was made in its honour and quickly became the symbol of good fortune.</div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 96px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 72px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468087704138722034" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-KMy7XeqvI/AAAAAAAAAOs/OZREa4PTdWg/s200/prayerboard.jpg" /><br /><div align="justify">The temple still stands and its walls are adorned with many pictures of cats, and owners of lost or sick cats often visit the temple with prayer boards to this day.</div>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-33859099225840555362010-05-05T19:58:00.007+01:002010-05-05T21:07:41.304+01:00Six Little Gems<div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467870217492815410" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-HG_ieY3jI/AAAAAAAAANk/OQ6MGKOlFnY/s200/010.JPG" /> <p align="justify">I'd like to introduce you to Marina and her 5 little girls, Garnet, Amethyst, Emerald, Topaz and Quartz. Garnet is completely black, the others are like feline Dalmations and I have no idea how I'll ever tell them apart when they get older!</p><p align="justify"><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">.</span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-HHe3-k2_I/AAAAAAAAAN0/FNfqSOmyfKM/s1600/011.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467870755840908274" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-HHe3-k2_I/AAAAAAAAAN0/FNfqSOmyfKM/s200/011.JPG" /></a><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">.</span></p><div align="justify">The reason I have them is quite a sad one really. The Little Miss kittens were ready to be rehomed, and the RSPCA, knowing how much I am longing to see kittens being born again, asked if I'd like to look after a Persian cat who was about to give birth.</div><br /><div align="justify"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 182px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467871698076623938" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-HIVuFE5EI/AAAAAAAAAN8/EFQTfqXKUWA/s200/024.jpg" /><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">.</span></div><div align="justify">Because the previous kits had had a cold, my fostering room had to be disinfected and left for 48 hours before she could come to me. Unfortunately that very night she went into early labour and the kittens were stillborn. I'm very, very grateful that this happened at the RSPCA centre as she was in the best place possible and she would quite likely have lost her own life if she had been at my home.</div><div align="justify"><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 174px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467871815021584642" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S-HIchu7YQI/AAAAAAAAAOE/GRev8m1MWbc/s200/025.jpg" /><br />But she has survived and she will now be neutered and rehomed. And as my home was ready and waiting, Marina arrived on Thursday along with her lovely 4 day old babies. She is a very gentle loving mum who very rarely leaves the kittens, and I think we will have lots of fun bringing them up together over the next 8 weeks.JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-21810051005310149532010-04-26T22:00:00.004+01:002010-04-26T22:44:42.504+01:00Snotty Noses<div align="justify"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S9YD-XaNQJI/AAAAAAAAANU/YKGcJ5cTgvg/s1600/011.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464559567831384210" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S9YD-XaNQJI/AAAAAAAAANU/YKGcJ5cTgvg/s200/011.JPG" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cccccc;">.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The kittens are still recovering from their colds. I have never seen cats with proper snotty noses before, but I've felt like I've had 5 two year olds this week. Trouble is when you wipe kittens' noses you can't tell them to blow, they just look at you as if you've gone even madder than normal!<br /><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I felt really bad for them as they have had a really bad dose of it, and I resorted to putting Vicks on towels on the radiators to try and clear their noses. The illness hasn't affected their eating or playing though, and my poor old curtains which have lasted through multitudes of kittens have really suffered through the clambouring and climbing!</span><br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464559580312504834" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S9YD_F58CgI/AAAAAAAAANc/9jX4jQuBMcE/s200/009.JPG" /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Because they have colds they are not able to go back to the RSPCA to be rehomed in case they pass their germs on. This means they are much later going back than they should be. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Because it's only the beginning of the kitten season they will still find homes really quickly as anything under a year is snatched up at this time of year. But I do feel as though their future owner is missing out on the very best of times.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">I don't think you can beat the feeling you get when you are walking in from a hard day at work and open the door to be greeted by 5 eager little faces all absolutely ecstatic to see you and the melody of purrs when you sit with them to play. Who can be stressed in the midst of simple pleasures like these?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /></div><p align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzeoL2Ju-5mOEhez4lL1Cq9VNIikwk3GvhbEmv1_9iYd9qEWW4e86n3tZfBJp5El3kKLUWUdHEicSPmtc-FiA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-42014454497565937632010-04-18T16:36:00.005+01:002010-04-18T17:42:20.323+01:00History of Cats - The Black Death<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;font-size:14;" lang="EN-US" ><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#666666;">Due to my love of all things feline, I decided to do a bit of research on the history of cats. I am no historian and rely on the internet for my facts - please forgive me if I've made any glaring mistakes :)</span></span></span> <div><div><span style="color:#666666;"><br /></span></div><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;font-size:14;" lang="EN-US" ><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#666666;">I hope you find the results interesting.</span></span></span></p><div><br /></div><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="center"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US" lang="EN-US"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">1. Cats and the Black Death<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></b></p><div><span style="color:#cccccc;">.<br /></span><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 130px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 89px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461515096214377938" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S8szCy1KldI/AAAAAAAAAMk/t53uLEoVaB8/s200/Black+death.jpg" /> <p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><sup><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN"><o:p><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span></o:p></span></sup></p><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cccccc;">.</span></span></p><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The Black Death or Bubonic Plague raged throughout <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:place st="on">Europe</st1:place> during the early 14<sup>th</sup> Century and hung around until the 19<sup>th</sup> Century.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Around a third of the population of Europe died.</span></span><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span></p><p align="justify"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Before this time, cats had been associated with Satan and witches, many seeing their aloof nature and the fact that they were independent, not subservient, as proof that they were in league with the Devil.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Pope Gregory the IX had stated that cats were "diabolical" in the early 13th Century and i</span>t became a very popular pastime for cats to be killed en masse. Their population levels dropped significantly.</span></span></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cccccc;">.</span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 192px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461515100152532242" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S8szDBgGDRI/AAAAAAAAAMs/tKr-xIVCXBg/s200/cat-under-witch-hat.png" /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span></p></div><div><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN"><span style="font-family:verdana;">When infected rats started to arrive in grain cargo from <st1:place st="on">Asia</st1:place>, they flourished due to the lack of predators, infecting more rats and increasing in population. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>This is considered by some to be a large factor in the spread of the disease.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span></div><div><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN"><span style="font-family:verdana;">As the plague gained strength, the cat started to be associated with God’s wrath against sin, and even more were killed in the hope of appeasing God and stopping the plague.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Dogs were not safe during this time either, and they also started to dwindle in number. </span>Ironically, the very creatures that could have helped contain the disease were blamed and killed.</span></span></div><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cccccc;">.</span></p><p align="justify"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 160px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461515110806533986" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S8szDpMNN2I/AAAAAAAAAM0/2L64UytfHic/s200/cat+and+rat.jpg" /><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-71981193270052985362010-04-11T17:03:00.005+01:002010-04-11T18:29:40.395+01:00The Old and the New<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S8H6zMTxfzI/AAAAAAAAAL8/PesJ49ddkfc/s1600/004.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458919980734185266" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S8H6zMTxfzI/AAAAAAAAAL8/PesJ49ddkfc/s200/004.JPG" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;">It's been a very busy week in the JoeyGrey household. The mum cat started sneezing last week, the day after my last blog post, and it gathered momentum until she was constantly sneezing by the evening. She had no runny nose or eyes, so I wondered if perhaps she was reacting to my automatic air spray rather than getting cold or the dreaded cat flu. So the air spray was demoted to front room duty, but by the next morning one of the kittens was sneezing too.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cccccc;">.</span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458921082743689346" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S8H7zVnUEII/AAAAAAAAAMc/y1Aqpapwo0A/s200/005.JPG" /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.<br /></span><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;">A quick call to the RSPCA and they came to fetch them and zoomed them off to the vet. The vet allayed my fears of cat flu and said mum just had a bit of cold and need antibiotics. The kittens would get the treatment through mum's milk, so nothing too terrible.</span></div><span style="color:#cccccc;">.<br /></span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458919985978419170" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S8H6zf2GJ-I/AAAAAAAAAME/ANoqDBQ-CyU/s200/010.JPG" /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The RSPCA close at 4.30pm and I work till 5.30pm, so couldn't meet them at home, therefore they brought the cat and kits to my work. I had to leave the office for 20 minutes so left them in my colleague's capable hands, safely in their cat baskets but with lots of attention. When I came back into the office, there were 5 other people laid, sat and crammed into different nooks and crannies in my office, all with a kitten on their various laps and chests and mum cat strolling round the office desks and laying happily on my work!</span></div><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458921080576356594" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S8H7zNilMPI/AAAAAAAAAMU/LE7XfQKAgGs/s200/013.JPG" /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cccccc;">.</span> <div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Everyone spent a very pleasant hour doing absolutely no work whatsoever and the kittens got more attention than they've had in their whole 6 weeks!</span></div><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458919960095481026" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S8H6x_bH3MI/AAAAAAAAALk/fr8BxpQSxIQ/s200/042.JPG" /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;">When I got them home I got another call from the RSPCA to let me know that Thomas had been reserved and was off to his new home the next morning. I was a little choked up but so very pleased for him that he had been picked out so quickly and was off to his new life. It makes it all worthwhile.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cccccc;">.</span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458919973647878274" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S8H6yx6RCII/AAAAAAAAAL0/YRdJvy55sY8/s200/039.JPG" />JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-27169237731269508602010-04-04T00:28:00.009+01:002010-04-04T10:36:03.837+01:00A Pile of Kits<div align="justify"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S7fQoqSSemI/AAAAAAAAALE/IFqgHNyrDSg/s1600/024.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456058870546987618" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S7fQoqSSemI/AAAAAAAAALE/IFqgHNyrDSg/s200/024.JPG" /></a> So, I've had the kittens for a full day and they really are the cutest little things. They are quite small for their age - they will be 6 weeks old on Thursday - but what they lack in size they make up for in energy. They are just at that age where they are chasing things and tumbling over each other and doing the sideways crab-walk attack on their mum's tail.<br /><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S7fQobHWJ4I/AAAAAAAAAK8/qvo5im9pwJ4/s1600/019.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456058866474559362" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S7fQobHWJ4I/AAAAAAAAAK8/qvo5im9pwJ4/s200/019.JPG" /></a>For all their energy though, they are very chilled out kittens, just like their mum. It's the first time I've seen this many kittens happily take feeding time in shifts. When I go into them, there are often just two feeding and the others are either happily playing or sleeping in a pile until it is their time. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456069129163685650" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S7fZ9ynGvxI/AAAAAAAAALM/LK8wrFYbSm0/s200/021.JPG" /><br />Whenever I get new kittens to look after I bring down the basket of toys for them. They get a couple of days to explore it and decide which are their favourite and then it gets reduced to a smaller more manageable basket. Their favourites this time are a piece of netting that they pounce on and hide under and the tunnel, nicely modelled by the little cherub above, at the moment named Kitten number 2.<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S7fQnj7WkuI/AAAAAAAAAKs/PUmLAqGZmQw/s1600/021.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456058851660305122" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S7fQnj7WkuI/AAAAAAAAAKs/PUmLAqGZmQw/s200/021.JPG" /></a><br />They are great at climbing - here is Kitten Number 1 looking very proud after climbing Mount Cat Basket. And below is the Pile of Kits after a hard hour's play.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S7fQnUpQetI/AAAAAAAAAKk/8O7F5xli_4U/s1600/007.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456058847557876434" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S7fQnUpQetI/AAAAAAAAAKk/8O7F5xli_4U/s200/007.JPG" /></a> </div></div>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-58043212274163698042010-04-02T22:07:00.007+01:002010-04-02T22:39:31.269+01:00Out of the Frying Pan<div align="justify">So I went to see Thomas today. It was 5 days since I last saw him and I felt a lot calmer about the whole thing - I was pretty sure that Thomas would be settled and hopefully someone would have fallen in love with him and reserved him already. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">When I got to his chalet there were people in with him. Thomas was in the corner being stroked and purring his head off. Once they came out I went in and sat with him. He wasn't clingy or needy like he was last week. I played with him and tickled his tummy and he came and sat on my knee. But then he wandered off and sat in the corner cleaning himself. I quickly realised that he wasn't going to be upset when I went, if he noticed at all. The people who had been looking at him before came back after 10 minutes so I left him and he didn't give me so much as a glance.</div><p align="center"><img border="0" src="http://i189.photobucket.com/albums/z209/cherrbam/graphics/graphics-heartbreak/heartbreak005.gif" /></p><p align="center">I had very mixed feelings as I'm sure you can imagine. I want him to forget me and to settle with someone new, but at the same time I did feel a little bit snubbed. </p><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="center">When I got back to the reception and told them what had happened they laughed and sympathised, and generally made me feel better.</div><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455654605820038450" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S7Zg9W0gjTI/AAAAAAAAAKU/rcFM_6ZE1VA/s200/015.JPG" /><br /><br /><div align="center">Then they asked how soon I would be ready to foster again. To cut a long story short, I left half an hour later with a young mum and her five x 5 week old kittens!!!!!</div><div align="justify"></div><span style="color:#cccccc;">.</span><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455654612244731410" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S7Zg9uwRlhI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JItfdBJuA44/s200/010.JPG" />JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-58033334017228476312010-04-01T23:26:00.008+01:002010-04-04T10:36:33.852+01:00Goodbye Thomas<div align="justify">Thomas went back to the RSPCA to be rehomed last Thursday lunchtime. I have been trying to prepare myself for this - it is always a wrench when you have had a cat or kitten for a while, but I bonded with Thomas as soon as I met him, and because of his injuries I've had him for longer then normal. So I knew this time it was going to be particularly difficult.</div><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">.</span><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455310018719632098" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S7Unjv1pyuI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/s4nyyMj_teo/s200/002.JPG" /> <div align="justify"><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">.</span></div><div align="justify">The RSPCA driver knows me well by now. He left me alone to say goodbye and stayed at the side of his van while I gave Thomas a last cuddle. I had the biggest lump in my throat as I took Thomas out to him, but managed to hold the tears back. </div><br /><div align="justify">I stayed remarkably upbeat about it all for the rest of the day, and only got upset when I got back home and he wasn't on the windowsill to greet me. The RSPCA had asked if I would like to visit him on the Saturday to help him settle in and I jumped at the chance. When I got there I was so excited I actually felt quite embarassed at myself! </div><br /><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">.</span><br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455310023124696130" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S7UnkAP5vEI/AAAAAAAAAKE/Q_Bgv3ezqrQ/s200/001.JPG" /><span style="color:#c0c0c0;"> .<br /></span><div align="justify">He was hissing and spitting at everyone - possibly because that is the first place he went after being found injured and he associates it with the pain he was in at the time. His picture is now the screensaver on all of the pcs at the shelter as an example of when NOT to approach a cat! </div><br /><div align="justify">Within a minute he was back to the big purry tractor that I know so well, we were both so glad to see each other. I spent 20 minutes with him and then I went back again on Sunday and this time spent nearly an hour with him. He never stopped purring the whole time I was there. I hope it helped him to start associating the place with nicer feelings. I really want possible new families to see him as a big purry cat, not as a scary demon cat!</div><span style="color:#c0c0c0;">.</span><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455310030166792018" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S7Unkae3l1I/AAAAAAAAAKM/ZkmowFcyGTk/s200/002.JPG" /> <span style="color:#c0c0c0;">.<br /></span><div align="center">I'm going back tomorrow and feel like I'm visiting an old friend. I hope when I get there he is happy and doesn't need me anymore. But I'll be gutted if he doesn't.</div>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-42370732123809867692010-03-24T22:37:00.019+00:002010-03-29T00:04:59.957+01:00A Stressful Night<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#333333;">The birth of the first kittens was something I was living in great anticipation for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Cats are pregnant for less than 3 months, so not long really, but I felt as though Fudge was pregnant for years!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She is a very slight cat, so it was very obvious that she was pregnant, especially when she had been laying on her side and got up but her tummy stayed suspended in midair for a few minutes!<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffffff;">.</span></p><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#333333;">She used to lie at the side of me and I would put my hand on her tummy and feel the babies moving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was almost as exciting as if I had been having a baby!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.<br /></div></span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452355417666821010" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S6qoXVM1G5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/vyMecclN_OQ/s200/Photo-0073.jpg" /><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000000;">One night, about 2am, I was awoken with what sounded like a loud alarm clock from downstairs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I then realised it was an animal of some kind and thought the cats had brought something in with them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I crept downstairs very carefully in case it was a rather vocal mouse (I know!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But I was half asleep!), and there was Fudge at the bottom of the stairs walking backwards and forwards, and Scribble stood over something licking it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was the “something” that was making the noise.</span></span></p><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I shooed Scribble away and realised it was a kitten.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Fudge was totally disinterested in her baby and Scribble had taken on the "uncle-ly" duties of cleaning it up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was obviously distressed and Fudge was just walking around purring, so I got a clean towel and picked the poor creature up and started rubbing it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was in shock and had tears streaming down my face as I thought it was going to die.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then Fudge started to give birth to another baby, so I encouraged her towards the big box with sheets in that I had ready for her. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>She ignored it and just continued to walk around the room while giving birth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I put the first baby in the box and waited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The second baby dropped out and Fudge walked away without a second glance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></span></span></div><span style="color:#ffffff;">. </span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"><br /><br /></span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452359599536715234" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S6qsKv4TteI/AAAAAAAAAI4/R81BGQPEVM0/s200/Fudge+in+basket.jpg" /><br /><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000000;">I picked this baby up and rubbed it with the towel. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>It was about 3am and I finally started to think logically and came to the decision that there was no way I could care for these babies myself and that if Fudge wasn’t going to look after them I would have to let nature take its course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So I put the kittens into the box, shut Fudge in the dining room with them and went up to bed to cry my eyes out.</span></span></p><p align="justify"><span style="color:#ffffff;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">.</span>.</span><span style="color:#ffffff;"><span style="color:#000000;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000000;">I lasted an hour, then came back down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There was Fudge in the box with 3, and later 4, beautiful kittens, all feeding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She was looking at me with a calm face, lots of purrs and a look of “see, I knew what I was doing, you stresshead!”</span></span></p><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453822474578718290" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S6_epSFOblI/AAAAAAAAAJg/_EwcjbrRimc/s200/Jasmine+%232b.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span> </div>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-78421592474611260872010-03-19T21:13:00.007+00:002010-03-19T21:46:01.566+00:00The Pitter Patter<div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S6PrRO0DiCI/AAAAAAAAAHw/UmkTH1pQENU/s1600-h/Kittens+053.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450458655315167266" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S6PrRO0DiCI/AAAAAAAAAHw/UmkTH1pQENU/s200/Kittens+053.JPG" /></a> <span style="font-family:verdana;">Scribble<br /></span></div><br /><div align="center"><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S6PrQoD2ZiI/AAAAAAAAAHo/nqNj5Pfj5Ao/s1600-h/Kittens+051.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450458644912432674" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S6PrQoD2ZiI/AAAAAAAAAHo/nqNj5Pfj5Ao/s200/Kittens+051.JPG" /></a> <span style="font-family:verdana;">Fudge</span> </div><div align="center"><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I still thought at this point that Scribble was a girl and Fudge a boy. I had no idea about the number of kittens that go homeless and the fight the RSPCA has to get cats neutered at this point. I had decided that Scribble would be allowed to have a litter or two of kittens, whereas Fudge would be neutered to stop "him" wandering. I dreamed of a house full of tiny long haired grey kittens.</span></span></p><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;">.</span></p><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></p><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450462643605553666" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S6Pu5YWlQgI/AAAAAAAAAII/bXCUTBE-moY/s200/Photo-0068.jpg" /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Scribble and Fudge</span><br /><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">My first trip to the vet with them changed my ideas slightly. He told me I had them the wrong way round, and Scribble was the boy. (Thankfully their names weren't sex dependent). And he was very negative about my idea of Fudge having kittens. He was the first person who mentioned to me the problem there are with so many unwanted cats. But I thought he was just being a misery, and I wanted kittens so much that I stuck to my guns. <?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450458633228549682" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S6PrP8iMfjI/AAAAAAAAAHY/nYfd5AJCasY/s200/SP_A0161.jpg" /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span> <p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></span></span></p><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I thought that as Fudge was Scribble’s sister there was still a chance of long haired kittens from her gene pool, but as it happened Fudge obviously didn't pass either that gene or the grey gene to her kittens. She had two litters, all of them black and white, or just solid black.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450460702776001346" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S6PtIaMwg0I/AAAAAAAAAIA/9SKEftZEZ9c/s200/SP_A0191.jpg" /><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Once the first ones were born, I really didn't care what colour they were. They were the most amazing thing that had happened. I was literally awe inspired by them. I would race home at lunchtime and eat my food as quickly as possible and then sit on the floor at the side of Fudge and the babies just watching them. I took hours of video of them just moving around, feeding and sleeping. I am a very sad case!!!</span></span></p><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450460696683109042" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S6PtIDgGWrI/AAAAAAAAAH4/wlMdBNV84Xo/s200/SP_A0185.jpg" /><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /></div></div>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-73674447321376556502010-03-16T22:29:00.011+00:002010-03-17T00:18:56.969+00:00The Long Journey Home<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S6AG9cSlU9I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/UfJu5b6NI-A/s1600-h/Photo-0061.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S6AG73tXaJI/AAAAAAAAAGw/hKyr5mSV9R8/s1600-h/Scribble+(2).jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449363174754576530" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S6AG73tXaJI/AAAAAAAAAGw/hKyr5mSV9R8/s200/Scribble+(2).jpg" /></a><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I almost turned round and took Scribble back within 10 minutes of driving away from the farm. My sister had come with me and we had them both snuggled in a blanket in a box in the back of the car. But Scribble was crying. And crying. And crying. So my sister picked him up and he laid on his back while she tickled him and stroked him and he purred. But she felt sorry for Fudge on her own in the back, all quiet and scared, so she swapped them over. And Scribble cried and cried and cried. I did discuss with my sister the wisdom of having a cry baby cat, and wondered if we should take him back and swap him. But I couldn't change my mind now, I'd have always regretted it if I had.<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449363180500351890" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S6AG8NHQ-5I/AAAAAAAAAG4/LyGlZ8sfBtU/s200/Photo-0053.jpg" /> <p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></span></span></p><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Scribble continued to be a cry baby. He cried to be fed, he cried to be cuddled, he cried just for the sake of it. I loved him totally, and yet was constantly infuriated by him. He was possibly the most needy cat I had ever met! But at the same time he was the love of my life. I could pick him up and hold him in my arms like a baby and he would lie there purring his head off. He slept on my bed, curled up in my arms. He was more loyal than any man could have been.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449363188732789618" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S6AG8ryCA3I/AAAAAAAAAHA/MwTAwE4MKBo/s200/Photo-0056.jpg" /><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Fudge was a totally different creature. She was shy and always bottom of the ranking when other cats were around. She never particularly needed me, but was happy enough to be cuddled if I wanted to. I love her very much, but she is an independent little creature. She is a calm, serene cat who has never scratched or bitten and rarely cries or fights. She is a terrific mouser - I've had rats, birds and a bat left for me so far as well as multitudes of live and dead mice.</span></p><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffffff;">. </span></p><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></p><p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal" align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I keep telling myself it’s the thought that counts.<o:p></o:p></span></p></div></div>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-50606465974103726062010-03-14T18:29:00.006+00:002010-03-14T18:44:38.244+00:00Scribble and Fudge<div align="justify"> <span style="font-family:verdana;">I have always had a thing about grey cats. Not sure why, but from being young at home I always longed for a grey cat. We had every colour you can imagine over the years, and loved them all, but I still looked longingly at pictures of these beautiful grey creatures.</span></div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448561109700233986" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S50tdiiwywI/AAAAAAAAAGY/-atyxBcT9DU/s200/Scribble.jpg" /><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;">When I finally got my own place and a job that was close enough to home to make it possible, the first thing I did was to start looking for the grey kitten (or two) I had always wanted. After a long fruitless search I finally spotted an advert in the admag, someone on a farm in Chesterfield had a whole litter of grey kittens. My wheels hardly touched the road and I was there within the hour!</span> </div><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448561120324697202" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S50teKH1PHI/AAAAAAAAAGo/1UsZ8NEwYcA/s200/Fudge.jpg" /><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The most beautiful kittens I've ever seen were waiting for me - 2 long haired and 2 short haired. I was sorely tempted to take them all, but felt that two was enough, (if I'd known then that my house would be constantly full of cats within two years, I'd have taken them all in a heartbeat). I looked them in the eyes and picked one of each. I didn't actually know how to sex kittens at that point, so took the farmer's word that the long haired was female and the short haired male. Scribble and Fudge. The beginning of a love affair!!</span></div><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448561117045866194" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S50td96GPtI/AAAAAAAAAGg/5A5CN8v5QZk/s200/Fast+Asleep.jpg" />JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-6026515943579565862010-03-02T22:02:00.009+00:002010-03-02T23:09:56.975+00:00Spring has Sprung<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 156px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 147px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444173821594621602" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S42XPwug1qI/AAAAAAAAAF4/VV9tbSKGprg/s320/crocuses.jpg" /><br /></span><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Spring is here at long last! I love snow so much, but even I have got just a little bit tired of it now. My cats usually spend a good 70% of their time out of doors throughout the year, but for the last 3 months they have become house cats. This is through their choice rather than mine!<br /><br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 219px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 181px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444174571187887842" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S42X7ZLeXuI/AAAAAAAAAGA/Sfdh83SQECs/s320/Torts+002.jpg" /><br /></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I leave the cat flap open for them, but they have decided it is a window rather than a door. They sit in my porch looking out at the weird white stuff that has taken over the world, and nothing short of a fire would get them out of the house and even then I think they would be torn!</span></div><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 135px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 173px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444173299073195810" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S42WxWLsnyI/AAAAAAAAAFw/SjSJ6bf-GgQ/s320/Dec+2008+006.jpg" /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Even today with the sun shining brightly and not a sign of snow, they have been very wary of the big bad outdoors. What if the white stuff comes back while they are out and they can't get to their biscuits in time? </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 225px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 173px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444174577220435058" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S42X7vpvvHI/AAAAAAAAAGI/O38QztsxY7A/s320/003.jpg" /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">They were finally encouraged with a good firm push to take the risk, and they lasted for the whole of 3 minutes before they were back again. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">This 3 minutes of the outdoor life seems to have had a drastic effect on them though. I am currently sat on my settee while 3 wild cats chase around and around the house like crazy beasts. It is amusing and annoying as I have just sat back down after cleaning up my spilt tea from the carpet. It really does feel like there is a herd of elephants chasing each other up and down stairs. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 172px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 144px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444176292512602274" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S42ZflnRGKI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/O3mLFluY6jU/s320/Elephant.jpg" /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">I do look forward to the time when they start to go out again - I love my cats to pieces, but enough is enough. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">It seems that spring has entered the JoeyGrey household. And not a minute too soon!</span><br /></div>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-60024415255167101332010-02-21T21:10:00.020+00:002010-02-23T23:07:22.224+00:00In praise of the Wubba<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;">When you get your first cat, (or your thirty-first), if you are like me, you can't wait to rush out and buy it some "essentials", like sticks with feathers on, bouncy balls that go missing after 2 minutes and vibrating and/or running mice.</span></div><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4GthxUVgdI/AAAAAAAAAEY/6URTdHdprII/s1600-h/028.JPG"></a><p align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4GvQjsR7oI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/ZUsurn0DbAE/s1600-h/028.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 186px; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440822523834003074" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4GvQjsR7oI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/ZUsurn0DbAE/s320/028.JPG" /></a></p><div align="justify"><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I have a big box in the loft full of the many, many items that I've been sure will be loved by all my feline friends. The truth is that they show a passing interest in each item but it can never be said to be a lasting love. I bring the box down each time I get a new house guest, let them pick what they will play with and then back up it goes.</span></div><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4GtkJwc2sI/AAAAAAAAAE4/ZT_LHlxfoPI/s1600-h/024.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 117px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 85px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440820661446302402" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4GtkJwc2sI/AAAAAAAAAE4/ZT_LHlxfoPI/s200/024.JPG" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4GtjrJUuhI/AAAAAAAAAEw/OiEBil5QexM/s1600-h/023.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 114px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 88px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440820653229128210" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4GtjrJUuhI/AAAAAAAAAEw/OiEBil5QexM/s200/023.JPG" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4GusdFixgI/AAAAAAAAAFA/1icVPSapXnE/s1600-h/017.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 138px; HEIGHT: 86px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440821903585625602" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4GusdFixgI/AAAAAAAAAFA/1icVPSapXnE/s200/017.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;">But I've at last found a toy that all three of my cats and my foster cat love. And when I say love, I mean not only the "like intensely" kind of love, I'd go as far as to say the romantic kind of love. </span></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4GtiZo_K6I/AAAAAAAAAEg/bnD4Av9VTpE/s1600-h/014.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 115px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 86px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440820631350225826" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4GtiZo_K6I/AAAAAAAAAEg/bnD4Av9VTpE/s200/014.JPG" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4GtjMeNaxI/AAAAAAAAAEo/pnkHMRAp1rM/s1600-h/015.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 101px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 87px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440820644995230482" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4GtjMeNaxI/AAAAAAAAAEo/pnkHMRAp1rM/s200/015.JPG" /></a> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4GutcCJdQI/AAAAAAAAAFI/WYWz53wgZhA/s1600-h/018.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 127px; HEIGHT: 91px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440821920482817282" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4GutcCJdQI/AAAAAAAAAFI/WYWz53wgZhA/s200/018.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;">This fabulous item is called Kong Wubba. They lay with their faces on it, they lick it, they rub their noses on it, they fall asleep with it in their "arms". When they get tired of loving it they bite it ferociously, kick at it with their back legs, and then go back to cuddling it better again. I have to make them take turns with it now to make it feel fair!!</span></span></div><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Here is what remains of mine and what it should look like: - </span></span><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4GxjheFzcI/AAAAAAAAAFY/tt1OxVz77-E/s1600-h/110.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 120px; HEIGHT: 144px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440825048678387138" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4GxjheFzcI/AAAAAAAAAFY/tt1OxVz77-E/s200/110.JPG" /></a> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4G9VgiUfnI/AAAAAAAAAFo/uBjTLpRWts0/s1600-h/Kong+Wubba2.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 142px; HEIGHT: 140px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440838002049056370" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S4G9VgiUfnI/AAAAAAAAAFo/uBjTLpRWts0/s200/Kong+Wubba2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:10;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I ought to add, I have no connection with the makers of this item and simply felt the need to share my wonderful find. </span></span></div>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-91837267786338451732010-02-15T22:42:00.006+00:002010-02-15T23:13:36.323+00:00Something Kitty This Way Comes<div><div><div><div><div>Ooh it's coming to that time of year again. Not sure why but female cats the length of Britain are choosing about now to start looking around for a bit of nooky and in a few months time we'll be inundated with cute little fur balls.</div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438608403194482306" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S3nRhxjcjoI/AAAAAAAAADw/fKh7HqzRj5s/s320/kits+April+09+006.jpg" /><br /><div>I have Thomas for another 2 months at least, so I've been working out that if he gets a new home at the end of the 2 months it gives me just a few weeks respite before my house will be full of scrambling feet again - and those are just my sister's as she gets down here at breakneck speed to see the babies.</div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438609608728174722" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S3nSn8hE4II/AAAAAAAAAEI/hJUBJithCDk/s320/034.jpg" /><br /><div>The best ones, although I love them all, are the ones that are only a day old. You look at these tiny helpless creatures and can't help but be awe inspired at the thought that they will be scampering around causing havoc in just a few short weeks. </div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438609614630889538" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S3nSoSgZKEI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/YC48zQGBvf4/s320/001.jpg" /><br /><div>It's a bit like when you have a baby and you can't wait for them to take their first steps. Once they can walk you long for the days when you could put them down and they would still be in the same place when you came back!</div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438608418100837154" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S3nRipFZeyI/AAAAAAAAAEA/_nPTN6QgV_c/s320/003.jpg" /><br /><div>So I'll enjoy my time with laid back Thomas for a while longer and then start to kitten proof the house again ready for a hectic spring.</div></div></div></div></div>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4301591268895348020.post-68701823912802354472010-02-10T21:35:00.015+00:002010-02-11T07:53:51.033+00:00To Oblivion and Beyond<div align="justify"><span style="color:#cccccc;"></span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S3MuxxS5xII/AAAAAAAAADY/VcHsOtzn2z4/s1600-h/013.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 206px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436740607747409026" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S3MuxxS5xII/AAAAAAAAADY/VcHsOtzn2z4/s320/013.JPG" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Oblivion, (quickly renamed Oblee), came into my life in September 2008 with his brother Predator.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I am told they had been put into a sack of some kind and thrown down a river bank.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Fortunately someone had spotted this and rescued them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m not sure exactly how true all this is, but it would explain Oblee’s absolute fear of everything when I took them in.</span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">This is all I saw of him for the first 3 weeks.<br /></span></span><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 253px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 148px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436732448511367346" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S3MnW1xcGLI/AAAAAAAAACo/-kqZDjlJcRs/s320/Oct+08+003.jpg" /> <div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">And here is his brother Predator who was much more chilled out about it all.</span><br /></span></div><span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-: EN-GBfont-family:arial;font-size:12;" ><em><strong></strong></em></span><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 272px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 205px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436732714580584626" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S3MnmU9SKLI/AAAAAAAAACw/YiOEP1GwyRA/s320/Sept+08+008.jpg" /><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Predator was quickly adopted via the RSPCA and so I just had Oblee left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Gradually he started to come round and before long he was looking a lot more relaxed. </span></p><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cccccc;">.</span></p><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></p><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 278px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 176px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436732951700958050" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S3Mn0ITL62I/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjQ_Pqfq7fo/s320/Sept+08+013.jpg" /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">It was a busy time for the RSPCA and Oblee kept getting overlooked by adopters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As I often do with cats that stay longer than a month or so, I started to let him interact with my cats and to my absolute surprise they took to him readily which had definitely NEVER happened before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He came out of his shell and started to find his place in the pecking order – right at the top.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Fudge is always at the bottom of the ladder in my house, even taking her place below any kittens that are around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But Georgie had established himself as king of the castle and started to object.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He soon gave in though and now has the sulky teenager role. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Can you tell which one is Georgie?</span><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S3MrYsuYONI/AAAAAAAAADQ/DrgS1y3caJw/s1600-h/Dec+2008+009.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 183px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 142px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436736878488860882" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S3MrYsuYONI/AAAAAAAAADQ/DrgS1y3caJw/s320/Dec+2008+009.jpg" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S3MoU7hRfZI/AAAAAAAAADA/GL-CXqfV9Xs/s1600-h/002.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 173px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 160px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436733515206065554" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S3MoU7hRfZI/AAAAAAAAADA/GL-CXqfV9Xs/s320/002.jpg" /></a><br /></p><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Once he had his place in the house established Oblee started to work on wooing me and any visitors that came to the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He would play fetch with rubber thimbles for hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He would cuddle up to people and drape an “arm” over them and then give a big sigh of ecstasy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He would roll onto his back and wait patiently for his tummy to be tickled by any willing party.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Everyone left my home in love with him.</span></p><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></o:p></p><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">By the end of November I had fallen hook, line and sinker for Oblee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">And so he became an official member of the Joey Grey household</span>.</span></p><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">.</span></p><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"></p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 277px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436735139150094642" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ayEbMUZTvvQ/S3MpzdLs4TI/AAAAAAAAADI/d4aio3XIqdY/s320/Nov+Dec+2008+022.jpg" /> </div>JoeyGreyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14780150081056537229noreply@blogger.com0