Friday, 1 July 2011


(Sometimes, if I think it has a wider appeal, I'll reprint a piece from my Cat rescuing blog. Often it will be changed in some way, either slightly rewritten or the emphasis changed which is the case here. Most, though not all, of it is exactly the same and it's still really about cats. Well, no, actually it's really about me.)

I said-

"I picked up this 8-week old kitten this morning.
"Along with an 18 month old black and white un-neutered male. Apparently the adult cat had been left behind when his owner moved and the new owner took him on along with  young kitten but then changed her mind and passed them on to the young woman who handed them over to me because her two young sons were allergic to them.
"Anyway, I took them to Carol's. Carol rang Roker Park vets to see if they would keep the boy in overnight and neuter him in the morning, which they would, so I took him down. He's a bit nervous but quite placid really."

"You talk about nothing but cats," my wife said.

"Rubbish," I said. "I sometimes talk about kittens, maybe mention dogs, and occasionally things like guinea pigs. Of course I don't talk about cats all the time."

"Everyone in the shop thinks you do," said my wife.

"It's a charity shop raising money to rescue and re-home animals," I said. "I do the cat side of things. What else am I going to talk about to tell them how the money they raise is spent?"

"Lots of things," my wife said.

Of course there's no answer to that. My interests, however, are far wider than cats as any regular reader of this blog  can attest. But, no, it is true that, given the chance, I will talk about cats. My first genuine memory is of carrying home a ginger kitten in a wicker basket. Apart from term time at college for three years and the first three and half years Susan and I were married, I've never been without a cat or (as things are now) eight.

So, as I apparently wear my heart on my sleeve, I've now decided to wear it on my chest as well and have just bought the following two t-shirts.

Much to my surprise, Susan likes the first one but, much to my surprise, dislikes the second, considering it unsuitable for me.

But I don't care. I'm too old and too uncaring of what strangers think of me to be embarrassed by looking like a weirdo/fashion disaster, though I don't think I do and like the cat-face shirt more though I do like the play on words/allusion of the other. I would have shown you photos of me wearing them but Susan refused to take the pictures.

(That's actually a lie, but I thought it sounded funny.)

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