The Cats Arrive

Oh my goodness, yesterday was quite a day. Kim arrived home late on Friday and after a long, tiring week and probably could have done with an easy morning, but no, we were up and out on the way to the RSPCA shelter at West Hatch to pick up the cats.

What a delight to be greeted on the reception desk by Louise, who lived across the road from us until quite recently, with a big smile and a heap of paperwork. Formalities done and a new paw-print blanket and other bits and bobs purchased, one of the staff came through to talk to us about the feeding regime and inoculations for the boys, followed by the Manager of the cat section carrying our crates with the furry duo.

Well, if nothing else, we found within minutes, that our cats had strong voices and powerful lungs. They started meowing in turn as I drove us all back home, but as the tempo increased, they ended up doing a rather splendid meow duet, and I was glad when we arrived and Kim unloaded the crates into the house. Poor cats, they really were frightened. They have been caged since the spring, and both of them are a decent size, one being 4.1 kilos and the other 4.65 kilos, they have not had an opportunity to stretch their legs. We closed ourselves in the kitchen, let the boys out and put down some food to go with their water bowl and sat quietly. Oh my, they were dashing around, sniffing everything, checking out every nook and cranny and finding their way around the room.



Boots after he had discovered the bed

Boots is the larger of the two cats, not only in weight, but he is fluffier and has a stillness and presence that commands attention and respect. Boots is also the soppiest thing in a fur coat and will snuggle up to you at the slightest opportunity, dribbling like mad if you give him a good neck rub! The other, smaller cat, who was originally called Smokey, then Monty but who has now settled into the name of Bertie, is a different creature altogether. Think of Hugh Laurie playing Bertie Wooster in the Jeeves and Wooster television adaptation of the PG Woodehouse books and you get a general idea of the look. I'm not sure that Bertie is capable of repose; he's a wiry, sinuous cat with more energy than is good for him. He likes to be near people, but is not a lap cat and prefers to brush past, grabbing a quick neck rub, en route to the latest object of his investigations.


Bertie playing a string game

Our house isn't huge, but it's a decent size, and after their cage, I think the boys were a bit bewildered with the size of the kitchen. We spent ages in there, drinking tea and talking quietly, so they became used to our voices, our smells and felt secure in that room. Eventually though, the tea overcame me and I had to dash upstairs... and with that came the opening of the kitchen door. Boots sauntered out and did a circuit of the sitting room (the only other open door, as we figured one room at a time would be enough for the cats), while Bertie had a nervous fit, ran into the sitting room and then hurtled back into the kitchen and his place of safety (on the chair beside where I sit). We left the kitchen door open and gradually, bit by bit, the cats ventured into the sitting room more and more. Bertie discovered the conservatory and was perched on the window sill, watching the world go by for ages, before he sank into the big squishy cushion on the wicker chair and looked calm for the first time all day. Meanwhile, Boots had discovered Kim sitting in his armchair and had draped his body over Kims's, paws either side of Kim's neck having a purr-fest and a cuddle; Boots was starting to settle.

The evening must have been rather weird for the cats; we sat in and watched a dvd, while Boots and Bertie tried to work out why things hadn't gone quiet. At the shelter, they must have become accustomed to darkness falling when it fell, rather than when an electric light went out, and it must have been a long day for them. Never fear, Boots made the most of his opportunities and when we headed upstairs, the cats followed. On leaving the bathroom I found Kim tucked up under the duvet with a stretched out Boots laying on my side of the bed, in the crook of Kim's arm and Bertie under the bed. That didn't last - Bertie leapt up and found a place by my feet and the household went to sleep.



Boots after being roused, this cat likes his sleep!

Oh goodness, two large, hungry cats didn't have much trouble waking us up today! Boots was still curled up in a furry huddle, but Bertie had started to explore and was thud, thudding as he leapt up and down from all sorts of new and exciting places. Eventually, this roused Boots and the pair of them played tag across the bed, around the upper landing and nearly got up enough speed to do a wall of death in their skitterings. Kim and I became trampolines as Bertie and Boots hurtled over the bed; we're both rather large and bouncy, so this must have seemed like a wonderful game to the boys - it certainly got our attention.


Bertie and string

I know there isn't a thing wrong with the cats' hearing - no sooner had Kim opened the food cupboard and grabbed the rather crackly packet of food, than two black and white missiles careered downstairs - breakfast was served. These cats have certainly changed our lives already; it's not the black fur duvet cover or the paw prints in the bath, it's not the sudden madness of two hungry cats hearing anything that rustles or clothes covered in black and white fur, no, it's that we now have to negotiate to find space in our own bed. Today, Boots is recovering after such a busy day yesterday and has not moved from the bed since eating breakfast; Bertie, after playing string games with Kim, also retired to bed for a nap. Why am I worrying that they won't be sleepy at bed time?!!