Wet Weekends

And yet more rain!!!!!!
No wonder the cats are going stir crazy.
Much of their day is spent sleeping in a heap on the sofa in the conservatory, interspersed with hurling insults and threats at the birds in the garden.
The birds have realised that it's all talk and that, in fact, the cats are powerless to do anything about the invasion of their private space.
It will only get worse as the weather improves (assuming of course that it does) as the summer birds will return and take up their customary positions, on the fence and in the trellis, from where they issue taunts and challenges.
The babies have discoverd a new form of exercise- leg climbing. I am now forced to wear thick, long socks and may have to invest in footballers shin pads to protect my legs from their needle sharp claws.
I suspect that this is the weekend when I will need to take the curtains down to prevent the little darlings from scaling the heights and plumbing the depths.
Every time it catches me by surprise and it's not until I nearly have a heart attack, watching a minute soul clambering to 8 feet or so off the ground, that I think to remove the temptation to indulge in extreme sports.
I have to say that it's much the same emotion as when my son (then aged about 8) informed me that he was going to cub camp where they would be abseiling down a cliff face. EEEKK !!!!!!

Not so macho

Phoebe is rapidly becoming a fan of the Rolling Stones and has been heard humming "Satisfaction" (as in - I can't get no) under her breath.

She has finally decided to un-velcro her nether regions from the floor and stop calling Bill names.

Unfortunately Billy's manly sensibilities have been wounded and , fragile little flower that he is, he is playing hard to get.

Phoebe has been rolling and calling and getting into positions that only olympic gymnasts or advanced yoga practitioners can manage, all to no avail.

Bill wants to play - big baby.

Meanwhile the rest of the feline adults can hear all this going on and are standing on the sidelines offering advice and a running commentry. Just as well my neighbours are hard of hearing.

I am tired of trekking up and down the garden in the mud and the rain just to have Pheebs look reproachfully at me, as though it's my fault she 's got an itch she can't scratch.

Feeding time at the zoo

My life consists of feeding, washing up and cleaning out litter trays - I was born to be a lady of leisure, only no one has realised it yet.
The babies had their first raw meat meal today and it went down a storm. They cleared the plate in record time. Poor Maisie didn't get a look in.
I started them on human grade minced steak. I'm not sure about the logic behind feeding them beef and lamb - whoever heard of a cat dragging a cow or sheep in through the cat flap and leaving it, as a present, on the doormat? Mind you I'd quite like to see them catch tuna as well.
The last of the babies has found a home - I've never had a litter before that has been booked so quickly.
They will be with us for at least another 7 weeks, but I know that time will fly by.
This litter is particularly lovely and I am making the most of them being here - give it a couple of weeks and I'll be screaming and yelling for them to pack their bags and leave.
Billy B and Phoebe are ensconced in the stud run. Bill is chirruping sweet nothings to his beloved and Phoebe has her nether regions firmly velcroed to the floor and has told him, in no uncertain terms, what will happen if he so much as approaches her from behind.
It's going to take more that a bowl of biscuit for dinner to shift that little madam - but Bill says he's not buying her flowers !!!

Building an Ark

It has rained solidly for the last 24hrs and the garden is rapidly becoming a quagmire.
The cats are miserable and getting quite aggy with each other. They are reluctant to get even slightly damp and seem totally unconcerned that I am starting to sprout fungi from this relentless moisture. It's obviously OK for me to get soaked to the skin waiting hand , foot and finger on the lazy little blighters.
I fear that, if this weather keeps up, we may end up at the bottom of the hill, instead of half way up, having slid down on a sea of mud.
I have put the queens quarters up in Bill's bachelor pad, ready for him to do his stuff. Quite frankly the cold and damp is enough to dampen any amorous feelings he might have and all he seems inclined to do is huddle in his nice warm bed.
Oh to be a cat !!!!!
It looks as though the babies may all have found homes to invade (fingers crossed) so they won't need a place on the Ark when I build it.
I've decided not to do the 2 by 2 thing - there are some creatures I just refuse to share my space with- wasps and slugs spring to mind immediately.
I fear that when I repopulate the planet "apres la deluge" we may be somewhat top heavy with cats and a little lacking in most other areas - ho hum.
As for the human contingent - the list of people NOT invited on my boat is getting longer by the minute. BOOK EARLY TO AVOID DISAPPOINTMENT.

Sunday Blues

And the rain it was a raining - no chance to decide to stay indoors as the lovely Baggins needs to be fed, watered and cuddled.
So off I trudged up the garden, through the soggy and cold grass, and the ungrateful little devil couldn't even be bothered to get out of his heated bed to greet me. So, as a punishment for deep ingratitude, I clipped his claws.
I have to admit that, as long as you're giving him a cuddle, he doesn't seem to mind too much what you do to him. Unlike the girls who behave as if you are trying to relieve them of their virtue on a daily basis.
The kittens have discovered swinging on the curtains is a great game to play - next will be the follow the leader game where they race to the top and swing over the curtain pole before descending, head first, to the floor. The one who makes it furthest back down before falling off is the winner.
These are the little things we don't tell new kitten owners in case it puts them off.
Weaning is going on a pace and we now have to get used to eating a meal with one hand whilst fending of babies, who are intent on demolishing anything on your plate, with the other hand and both feet.
The alternative is to lock them in the kitten pen during meals - but then you have to wear earplugs to drown out the screams of outrage, which somewhat hampers any conversation.

Saturday Spring Clean and Kitten Visitors

We woke to brilliant sunshine and a hard frost. The garden looked stunning in it's clean, white coat.

Hubby had the day off and we decided to get some chores done- much to the disgust of the assorted felines, who like to live in filth.

I tackled the conservatory and he did what was needed to stop the shelf in the stud house from collapsing.

Baggins tendancy to bounce up onto the shelf was testing the brackets to the limits.

I was engrossed in my cleaning (if you believe that you'll believe anything) when I heard a shout from the stud house. Baggins had decided to "help" and hubby had shut himself in the house and shut Baggins out in the run - that went down like a lead balloon , Billy B was trying his damndest to break the cat flap down. I had to remove Bill from the vacinity and put him in the other run, where he happily sat and "chatted" with the other cats through the fence.

Needless to say he was less than impressed when it was time to return to his own quarters.

After cleaning up the outside I tackled the lounge- this time with "help" from the babies. Bless their little cotton socks !!!!!

We had a visitor this afternoon- to look at the babies, and she has chosen to have 2 of them.

Serafina and Lee will be going together, Iorek has had a home to go to from birth, so that just leaves Lyra to find a slave for. She's such a pretty little girl.

I am going to make another attempt to do the weekend crossword- as the babies are sleeping I might just stand a chance (assuming the little blighters haven't made off with my biro again).

Early morning alarm call

I was awoken at 6am this morning by the delightful sound of a cat vomitting !!!!
Having leapt out of bed, half asleep and totally uncoordinated, I discovered that this was Maisie's version of a wake up call.
The clever girl has discovered that maiowing doesn't have the desired effect and the quickest way to get me to let her out of the kitten pen is to make gagging noises.
So, at 6 am, there I am in my nightie, clearing up puke and fighting off the attentions of 4 hyperactive 6 week old kittens.
Maisie wants her breakfast and the babies want to go on the rampage around the lounge and to attack anything that doesn't move out of the way fast enough.
This mornings target for these attentions was poor Phoebe - who was keeping a low profile and eating her plate of biscuit until she was spotted by Lee. Poor Pheeebs couldn't get away from the little beasts, they had her surrounding and were totally unimpressed with her impersonation of an aerosol spray.
They are either totally fearless or relentlessly thick.
Breakfast over, peace reigned as kittens pinned Mum to the big cat bed and had a quick guzzle and Phoebe accompanied me back to bed, her to perform her ablutions and me to have a cup of tea.

The men of the house

The most important man in the house (or so he likes to think) is my long suffering husband.

When we met he was severely allergic to cats and pretty soon realised that , from my point of view, there was no competition.

I'd always had cats and wasn't about to stop on account of one mere man and his inability to breathe.

He, mistakenly, thought that the 3 cats I had at the time would gradually depart this world and we would live in a cat free zone - just how wrong can you be? Poor deluded soul.

I think he suspected the worst when I aquired my first breeding queen and the rest, as they say, is history.

Our senior feline male is the lovely Jags and he is the soppiest male neuter you could ever wish to meet - a real old fashioned gentleman. He loves kittens and welcomes newcomers to the household with great gentleness and patience, showing no signs of irritation when being hissed at by pint sized upstarts.

His second in command and constant companion is Raffles (aka Moany Bloke) who is the biggest and most easily freaked out cat we have. He doesn't cope well with change and the girls know exactly how to push him about - everyone who meets him falls in love with him as he is very handsome (but a big, fat lump).

Finally we have our delightful entire male stud, Billy Baggins. He has a bachelor pad of his own and he and hubby can often be found commiserating on their hard lives whilst enjoying a break from female nagging (nothing to do with me I hasten to add).

Later on I will introduce you to the most important members of the household (human and feline) THE GIRLS.

About the mad house

For the sake of sanity I have decided to write about the goings on in my house.
The cats rule us with an iron paw in a furry glove and we love the experience.
At the moment the 2 humans living here are controlled by 7 adult and 4 infant felines.
We are willing slaves to their varied desires and tastes and over the coming days I will introduce you to the various members of the household and let them tell you about themselves and us.