Colonic Irrigation For Cats

Oh dear, what a pants day! It's my own stupid fault - yesterday I got impatient and wanted to be able to sit in the conservatory, which Kim has used rather like a dumping ground over the winter months. One of the items cluttering up the conservatory was a heavy, solid wood coffee table that we're not using at the moment - so I dragged it to a corner where it would be out of the way... only to hurt myself. I should have "If I had a brain, I'd be dangerous" tattooed on my forehead, but at least I can sit and enjoy the garden, even when it's chilly now.

One very weird thing that has happened since late yesterday afternoon is that just about every cat in the area has been in my garden. It has been a veritable feline Picadilly Circus. One of the local cats uses the back wall of the garden as a route on his adventures, as we're more than happy for Enzo (his owner is a Ferarri fanatic!) to keep wandering by, as he doesn't trouble our senile old cat or come into the garden itself.

Don't get me wrong, I adore cats. I'd have a house full of felines if it wouldn't upset Mr Smelly, and when he finally falls off his perch, I plan to have a number of them. Trouble is, our cat is so old and frail that he only goes out into the garden when accompanied by a human and where he would take on any cat in his youth, he now runs back to his sofa if he so much as spots another cat in the distance. It's hardly surprising at his age; if he lives that long, he will be 18 in the early summer.

I think the interest has been provoked by the changes we have made in the garden. The trusty Andrew was around yesterday afternoon to move my bench and put down some bark chippings in a shady spot where the grass is reluctant to grow. Before he started work, I heard epithets and found one very grumpy gardener moaning about the number of cat plops on our tiny patch of grass. Andrew cleared the mess and after he left yesterday, I noticed the large ginger and white moggy lurking about, then saw a black and white cat I've never seen before and minutes later a tabby from over the road who keeps trying to stalk the birds in our garden.

It was almost as though the cats had turned into nosey little old ladies and were coming around to check the new layout and see where everything had moved to. Trouble is, I don't want them to cover the grass with their fragrant extrusions or, worse still, use the bark chippings as a litter box.

How to deter them? Well, clearly, chasing them isn't an option for me and I've found calling them names only makes them look at me like I've lost my marbles. There's no way it would be humane to throw things at them, even if I were a good enough shot, which I'm not (I only ever got drafted into the netball team for 'bruising' duties when we played the staff). Our solution of choice has been the Cat Colonic Irrigator (CCI) which started life as a childs pump-action water pistol.

We have used the CCI once before and Kim is a superb shot - he actually got the offending cat right on the pencil sharpener and it never came back! This afternoon, the tabby (and all the rest, but they were too fast for me) was back and though I didn't get a bullseye, I think it might be getting the idea that this garden isn't the best place to be. At least, I hope so. It's quite a pleasant little cat, but I can't have poor old Mr Smelly scared witless and I'd like our grass free of all those horrible little dollops, so the bright yellow CCI is loaded, primed and ready for all comers!