Our daughter Lele, returns in just twenty-four hours after six weeks away at judo camps in Portugal and Spain, my son returned last week to train with the England squad. Being a top-level athlete is not an easy lifestyle.
While my daughter is at home, our little cat, Slinky, spends much of his time at night sleeping in her room. However, while they’ve both been away, he’s been in our room, and it’s me who been receiving 100% of the attention he has to spare which is considerable. My wife likes him a lot, but she doesn’t stroke or touch him (not yet anyway), although they are perfectly comfortable in each other’s company and sit in close proximity to each other.
He is generally a very polite little cat, with a playful nature, who spends hours racing around entertaining us because he still nothing more than a full-sized kitten. At night, and dependent upon how warm it is, he sleeps in a number of different places and generally moves from one favoured spot to another.
When I retire, which is generally much earlier than my wife, then he ALWAYS comes to what I call, ‘tucking me in.’ It’s basically the last chance for both of us to have a little play before sleep befalls me.
Every night it’s different, but generally begins with him attacking parts of me. I strongly suspect as I’m preparing for bed he goes to his secret cocaine stash and has a good sniff. Things are about to go mental, and he begins dashing and racing round the bedroom making the strangest feline sounds you have ever heard. He then goes into stealth mode and attacks any bits of me I’m stupid enough to leave exposed until he becomes exhausted when he curls up next to me and purrs loudly.
He never stays in the same spot for very long, and for some reason particularly favours lying on my feet. Then, I hear him jump off the bed and generally he walks the ten yards to our rooftop office where he loves keeping my wife’s chair warm for her.
Although shiny black, I strongly suspect slinky is at least part Siamese and I have a good reason for saying this. A few times every night he jumps back onto the bed and slowly walks up and down the length of my body while he meows and purrs loudly. This is exactly like the Thai massages I have enjoyed where a small Oriental lady walks up and down the length of my back making me click. Although I have never heard one of these massage ladies purr or meow, their treatment is exceptionally enjoyable.
Slinky is a clean cat and always licking himself and grooming until he can boast a high sheen. Then, quite unusually, the other evening, he was running around the room in an unusual quite distressing way and I could smell pooh. I suppose that however clean, every cat is going to get the occasional problem, and evidence of his was smeared across the laminate flooring. I grabbed him and the Dragon Lady switched on the light.
He seemed to have a hair coming from his bum, from which hung what can only be described as a row of miniature sausage-shaped poohs. I removed it, and slinky meowed loudly, the last thing I wanted to do was hurt him. We cleaned him and his sausage poohs up, and I decided to look in his litter tray for clues. The pooh I found there looked as though he’d eaten wire wool or even a Brillo pad. What was this stuff?
We soon found out, my wife who is a nurse and often wears her hair in a bun has a variety of ‘bun doughnuts’ which make wearing her hair in this style possible. Slinky has always found these great toys. Unfortunately, a new one she just purchased was made of much finer nylon thread and he had not only had played with it but also swallowed much of it throughout the night. This was not a case of a bad tummy, his pooh had attached itself to the clumps of nylon he was trying to digest, and while some came out as pooh sausages, it still remained attached by long strands which stayed inside him. Poor little chap, well he seems to have passed most of it now.