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As we no longer have children at home, and have always had a house full of animals,
out life revolves to some extent around our cats! We have two , as you can see
in this photo:
Mellon, is the mackerel tabby,and Scatha the calico cat. They are twins, and
are five and a half years old They are both females.
This is a photo of Mellon, and Dommie,our old lady who finally succumbed
to failing kidneys last month
Dommie was a stray, and rather scared of people. She was also rather slow on
the uptake sometimes. For a long time, she did not meow, but when she did, and
it was a most awful squawk!It usually meant she was in trouble
Her name is self explanatory, I think. In her younger days she won prizes at
pet shows.
Mellon, on the other hand is a real live wire. She is the daughter, and granddaughter
of our own daughter's cats, and is a "proper Yorkshire cat"who has moved down
south, having made the journey in Merywen's lap, when she was only three months
old.
Unfortunately, even though she is belled, she is an expert at catching birds,
especially our greenfinches. (That's the green in Emeraldgirls, by the way,
or one of them).
Her name comes from "The Lord of the Rings", and is elvish for friend.
She insists on sleeping on our bed, otherwise she promises faithfully to dig
holes in the carpet by the shut door, all night.
Scatha came more recently when our daughter moved, and has decided to stay.
She is named after the warrior leader of
Arthurian legend.(These days we try to give the cats literary names).
That's about all I can think of to say about our current cats.
Our first cat was Cindy, (Iddle Liddle).She was black and white, and probably
half Manx.
She was a real terror, and fought all the
other cats in the neighbourhood, despite the fact that she never weighed more
than 3 Kilos. At that time we had a dog (Minty), also black and white, and Cindy
thought Minty was her mum!
We purchased Cindy from a pet shop in Catford, SE London on a bitterly cold
January day. She was the last kitten left, and would have been destroyed, had
we not bought her. As it was , she lived for another 18 years, eventually succumbing
to one tooth abscess too many. We had Domino by then, as we had thought that
we might lose Cindy on the Christmas Eve. Dommie herself was under threat, as
her then owner had four other cats, and had to go into hospital. Having a rival
probably kept Cindy going for the last couple of months of her life.
She was very much the boss, over all the guinea pigs, (of which there were twelve
at one time), over Pickle, the buck rabbit, (who was three times her size!),
and of course over all the rest of the local cat fraternity.
