Help! Keith needs a home in Oxfordshire

 

Why can't some cats get a forever home? Sometimes it's because they are old, or scruffy, or just the wrong colour and stupid humans want a particular colour

But why is Keith still homeless? 

He's under two years old. He's handsome though small. He's playful. He uses the litter tray excellently. He's clever - he can open doors. And he's affectionate.

True, he does nip his human if he is ignored. And he hates all over cats and will attack them. So he needs a home without any other cats.

Today he is very, very bored and frustrated. He is waiting for adoption in a spare room. With nothing much to do.

He is taken out for half an hour's play time twice a day. He is warm and well fed. 

If you happen to know a sensible adult human (some of them definitely aren't) that lives in Oxfordshire, please let them know about Keith.

They can adopt him from www.sunshinecatrescue.org.uk  

Cats come in from the cold

 As I lie under the radiator, soaking up the heat on my tummy, I think of the cats living outside. In summer it is a fine life - mice to catch, rats behind the supermarkets, dustbins to raid, caterwauling toms and receptive females.

But in winter.... 

Living under cars, trying to creep beneath garden sheds,  or miserably sheltering underneath cars... it's a tough world for the outside strays.

We cats come from the Middle East. We are designed to live in deserts, among pyramids, or at the edge of the Euphrates. In Europe it is cold and, worse still, wet. We need shelter, as well as food.

In Italy, some towns install little wooden huts for cats, along the pavement. There are cushions on top for fine weather and shelter below for wet days. In Istanbul, people build little cat houses on the steps outside their homes.

Not all of us cats want homes. Some of us prefer to live the outdoor life. There are many humans who feed stray cats. Thank you.

But what about shelters for street cats... think about it, humans.

 

 

 

This year I won't pee on the tree

 

Yes, one year I did. I sprayed on the Christmas tree. I felt obliged to do so, to keep myself feeling safe over the Christmas holiday.

The tree smelled of dog. DOG! 

Apparently some passing canine had lifted its leg on the tree, while the tree was placed outdoors on the pavement. My human couldn't smell it: but to me it was a very strong odour.

Dog-smelling trees frighten me. So I  cover up the enemy scent with my own scent. That's only fair.

So I did the only thing I could do, to stop myself feeling anxiety. And what was really painful was that my human did not understand.

Indeed, she became very upset. I couldn't explain to her. She shut me out of the room with the tree.

Life with humans has horribly unfair moments. This was one of them. 

Luckily this year, the tree smelled OK.  

 

 

A new cat at the top....

 

Copyright and more info here

We've done it again. We cats have strolled into top paces. The Belgian prime minister has just adopted a special needs cat.

His name? Maximus Textoris Pulcher. That's Latin for "Maximus the beautiful weaver." A posh name for a posh cat living at the top of  Belgian society.

His ears look funny because he is a Scottish fold cat, a breed that has serious health problems. They have a genetic condition  called osteochondrodysplasia.

That means their joints are deformed and they are in chronic pain. Maximus is also FIV positive.

Here in the UK, we still breed them and they still suffer. But in Belgium, they have banned the breed. 

Oh, and by the way, the Belgian prime minister's name is Bart de Wever and he is not HIV positive!  So he has given his surname to Maximus.

If it's a man, meow louder

Getting human attention is always a problem. They just don't hear us. They are too busy doing the stupid little actions that their species seems to think are important.

Meow? They are staring into the computer and take no notice.

Meow? They are putting on the coffee machine for breakfast and take no notice.

Meow? They are reading a book in bed and take no notice. 

And the male of the species is worse than the female. The female will, if you meow AND wind yourself round her legs, probably remember that you need your  breakfast first.

And the female may put down the book and give you a cuddle last thing at night.

But the male staring at the computer? Not with us at all. Might as well be in another world. 

What is so funny about humans is that they have researched our meows and decided we meow louder when we are dealing with the male. Of course we do. We could have told them why, if only they had the wit to understand what we are saying. 

So Meow louder when it is a male human. 

 

• Want more info about humans? Buy my book for Christmas. 
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