My Life In ... Cats

The fourth in an occasional series of alternative Curriculum Vitae because no-one on their death bed says "I wish I'd spent more time in the office".

My life has been considerably enriched by the companionship of these furry monsters. Each one had its own unique personality, behaviours and personal foibles; I could write a whole, separate post about each and every one of them.

Max (1962-?) and Squidge (1963-?): The original family cats when I was a child and lived with my parents. Max is the black cat and was acquired prior to our move from Southbank Road to Barford Road in Kenilworth. Then Dad succumbed to my younger sister Jane's entreaties and bought her a grey kitten which she christened Squidge. This photo taken in 1969.

Cleopatra "Cleo" (1990-2007): The first cat of my own was acquired much later in life. Cleo was the offspring of a cat called Gollum who belonged to our friend Ian Jenkinson. It was a small litter and I was persuaded to adopt the all black fluff ball. 

She was a lovely cat although a little timid. She was also the longest lived of all our cats, living to 17 years.

About 8 weeks after adopting Cleo I was sent to work on a project in Bingley for a well known building society. What to do about the kitten who needed feeding three times a day. Dilemma solved by relocating myslef and the kitten up north. For years after her basket had a British Midland airline luggage label on it.

Spielberg (1991-1992): Was the offspring of a cat belonging to our friend Sue Moller. I originally thought he was going to be called Fred using Cockney rhyming logic, as in "Fred and Ginger" because he was a ginger tom. But no, Mary was joking, so for reasons to long to go into here he ended up as "Spielberg" after the director of "Paws", "Close Encounters of the Furred Kind" and "The Color Purrple". 

He was a robust cat of great character and much loved by my lodger Neil. He and Cleo got on fine.  

A picture of Spielberg caught mid-meow looking like a satanic cat.

Sadly after a couple of years he simply vanished. We never knew what became of him despite Neil putting up notices all around declaring that Spielberg liked cheese and dribbling. Mary thinks he might have been adopted by a neighbour, I am more gloomy and fear an RTA.

Cristal (1992-1994): The only cat we bought rather than adopted. She was a pedigree, silver Persian and seriously cute. 

Sadly she only lived until two and a half because of a tumour on the heart. She and Cleo were the best of friends, here observing a bird on the lawn.

Oscar (1995-2004) and Oliver (1995-2003): Adopted from the now defunct Shirren Rescue Centre in Sturminster Newton that specialised in Persians. They were the cutest of cats and super friendly. Oscar, the black and white, was the favourite of all my cats. He loved to roll over and have his tummy rubbed at which he would turn into a boneless bag of fur. Oliver was a docile tube; if you saw him in a toy shop you would declare that can't be real, no cat is that fluffy.

They, however, were really mean to Cleo and despite all the advice from the animal psychologist we ending up having to keep the two of them apart from Cleo.

Living in the country Oscar not only brought birds but baby rabbits in the spring. He would wait until you were in the shower then present you with your present, usually headless. The bathroom carpet got so blood stained it eventually became unclean-able and we had to chuck it.

The only way to stop Oliver dancing on the keyboard was to fool him with the PC bag and the sit-in-a-box instinct kicked in.

There is so much more I could write about this pair, they were lovely. Sadly they both eventually passed and Cleo outlived them both. When Cleo eventually had to be put to sleep we waited two years before visiting the Cat Protection adoption centre.

Peaches (2010-2015) and Blue (2010-2016):

We adopted two older cats as we knew we planned a retirement to Italy. They have trouble re-homing older cats, we knew we would not have them as long but could give two older cats an graceful retirement. We were told these two were brought up together but I am not convinced that they were actually siblings. They were like pastel repeats of Oscar and Oliver, the stolid ginger and the vivacious dark one.

Peaches would never meow or sit on your lap but was always nearby, usually on the back of the sofa purring away.

Blue however was much more in-your-face. Always wanted to jump on the bed at night, purr madly for ten minutes and then retreat to the foot of the bed. In the morning she would jump into the warm, post-shower bath and shout for attention.

Jungle cat:

Over the years our cats have given us so much love, enjoyment, pleasure, entertainment. I remember them all with great fondness.

Read more about the individual cats on the blog: http://blog.mmenterprises.co.uk/search/label/cats

Blue - a celebration

Cats Protection, Haywards Heath 14-Feb-2010 to Wandsworth 21-Dec-2016

It has taken me a while to get round to posting this, not least because my father died less than a week after Blue and that kinda took priority. Now, belatedly, Blue gets the obituary she deserves.

She was a lovely, amiable companion, so good natured and a veritable ball of fluff - a hit with all who met her. Cuteness personified.

To quote from "Peaches - a celebration"

"This is Blue and Peaches the very first time was met them at the Cats Protection National Cat Centre in Haywards Heath. We had gone to view kittens but did a last minute swerve to the pen next door where we were told Blue and Peaches were 12 and 14 respectively.

When we decided to adopt two older cats the deal was to give them a peaceful retirement knowing we would not have them as long as kittens. We were resolved from the start that when their time came there would be no heroic measures to prolong their lives unnecessarily. As long as they were happy and comfortable it was quality of life that counted."

Blue clearly lied about her age! She was with us for six and a half years which would make her 20, an unlikely lifespan for a typically short-lived breed.

This is our favourite picture of her exploring the garden, taken by Mary, which we call "jungle cat".

Like all cats she had a talent for relaxing.

In contrast to Peaches, Blue was always wanting to be a companion cat coming over to keep me company wherever I was.

Especially if that meant jumping on the duvet at silly o'clock to be a furry alarm call.

When not lying next to me on the sofa this was Blue's favourite vantage point on the front windowsill to watch passersby.

She liked to drink from smelly plant saucers in the garden and anywhere but her bowl. She even did her best to drink out of Mary's water glass despite her snub nose.

Towards the end she was getting very frail. Whatever her age it was clear she had not much longer to go. The decision to have her put to sleep was very hard, as always with a beloved pet, but the decision was clear and the timing right.

We had her cremated and her ashes are planted under the same rosebush where Peaches and also Cleo's ashes are buried.

As with Peaches I feel happy that we have kept our side of the bargain and Blue in return provided us with her own unique feline company for six years and ten months.

Peaches - a celebration

Cats Protection, Haywards Heath 14-Feb-2010 to Wandsworth 19-Feb-2015

This is Blue and Peaches the very first time was met them at the Cats Protection National Cat Centre in Haywards Heath. We had gone to view kittens but did a last minute swerve to the pen next door where we were told Blue and Peaches were 12 and 14 respectively.

When we decided to adopt two older cats the deal was to give them a peaceful retirement knowing we would not have them as long as kittens. We were resolved from the start that when their time came there would be no heroic measures to prolong their lives unnecessarily. As long as they were happy and comfortable it was quality of life that counted.

When we first took them home they hid in dark corners and cupboards for the best part of a week. It was another week before we let them out into the garden. The picture below is Peaches' first exploration of the garden. It has to be said the she was never much of a one for going out. She could work the cat flap but, like most cats, preferred her humans to open the door for her.

Every cat is different. Peaches was never a lap cat. She was incredibly timid at first and we are quite convinced she had been mistreated in a previous life; for the first couple of years she flinched when you put your hand out to stroke her and would scurry away.

All our friends remarked how much less timid she became as she relaxed and got used to her safe new home.  We learned to approach her slowly from the front so as to not startle her and let her sniff your hand to get used to you.

Although she was not overtly friendly the moment we walked into the room she would start purring, a really deep rumble, like a furry diesel engine. The closest she ever came to us voluntarily was sitting on the back of the sofa however she was very happy to be picked up.

Being an elderly cat she didn't hunt, she didn't jump into cardboard boxes, she treated cat toys with indifference. What she did do was what cats do best - sleep and eat.

What she also did not do was meow, she was a completely silent cat. Well almost: once I accidentally trod on her tail and she yelped; once in the middle of the night she made a wailing noise (I suspect intruder fox). But that was it - in five years, never a squawk or shout or a chirrup.

Cats have favourite sleeping places: back of the sofa, under the breakfast table, on the dining room chairs and of course on the stairs where Peaches was a regular health and safety hazard.

Occasionally Peaches would get creative. She mostly ignored her pillow but a nice warm basket of laundry made a more than acceptable alternative. Classic cat!

Peaches was hard to photograph because she always looked down. She never looked at the camera, always at the floor. This is one of my all time favourite pictures of Peaches. Not staged, we had set the table for supper and up she jumped as if to say "Where's my food?"

The end, when it came, was not too protracted. An infection lead to a several night stay at the animal hospital and further tests which revealed cancer of the liver (and possibly lungs). She had lost weight, was not eating and was having to be fed by tube.

We brought her home for one night and Mary, having been away on business, was able to give Peaches one last cuddle. The decision to have her put to sleep was clear and unanimous. We woke the duty vet up early the next morning and drove her straight over. We both were present and stroking her at the end.

We had her cremated and still have her ashes which we will plant under the rose where Cleo's ashes were also buried.

I feel happy that we have kept our side of the bargain with Peaches and she in return provided us with her own unique feline company for five years and five days.

Peaches and Blue Third Anniversary

It was on Valentine's Day 2010 that we formally adopted Peaches and Blues from Cats Protection. How appropriate as we love them to bits.


First ever sight of Blue and Peaches

We went down to the Cats Protection National Cat Centre to look at a cute kitten and came away with two mature persians.


Blue relaxing in the Garden

They soon settled in and adopted a classic feline lifestyle with plenty of snoozing and general lying about.


Peaches relaxing in the laundry basket

We bought them warm, cozy baskets which they, of course, ignored and preferred to sleep anywhere else: on the back of the sofa, the piano stool, on our bed, on the stairs...


Peaches being a Health and Safety hazard on the stairs

Blue provides me with regular amusement just by being herself and by being extra cute.


Blue being cute in the bath

Both cats regularly sleep on the breakfast room chairs hence this, one of my favourite photos:


Peaches wondering where supper is

Mary's excellent photo and current wallpaper:


Jungle cat

A selection of the best photos: http://www.flickr.com/photos/markmclellan/sets/72157632589954950/detail/

I done a LOLCAT

Invizibul food

Serviss here iz terribul

Peaches and Blue sleeping

The cats' biggest decision of the day is where to sleep after a breakfast of Felix pouches.

Blue sleeping on the cushion

Blue's current favourite is on the cushion under the radiator. Peaches on the other hand is attempting, chameleon-like, to blend in with the carpet on the stair.

Peaches sleeping on the stairs

While fine for Peaches she does present something of a Health & Safety hazard. A good job pet owners do not have to conduct a risk assessment before taking on a new companion animal.

Peaches and Blue explore the Garden

Last weekend we let Peaches and Blue out for a supervised exploration of the garden.



Peaches led the way, did a complete circuit of the perimeter and traverse of the lawn.



Blue was a little more adventurous and also did a tour on the beds.



Inspection done they retired back inside.



We will continure to let them out under supervision until I return from holiday. Then I will try them on the cat flap.

New Cats: Peaches and Blue

After Cleo passed (two years ago yesterday) we left it a while before considering getting another cat. Originally we decided we would not because of our plans to downshift and spend more time abroad. However that date has shifted to the right so we re-thought our plans.

We wanted to adopt a pair because they would be company for each other while we are out at work and we have a preference for Persians having had three of them. They are very home loving cats not given to wandering - important in an urban setting with a busy main road.

We went first to Battersea Dogs and Cats Home but they had few cats available for rehoming let alone pairs. They are in the middle of building a new cattery and a recent cat flu outbreak meant they had diverted incoming strays to their outstations.

We also checked out the Cats Protection League who had a pair of six month old kittens available for rehoming. We rushed down the next day to view them and while we were there had a look round and Mary fell in love with an older pair in the next pen.


Peaches and Blue at the Cat Protection League

All the rescue homes have trouble finding new owners for older cats but we were happy to take on a more mature pair they are 14 (Peaches) and 12 (Blue). In some ways they do remind us of a pastel version of Oscar and Oliver. But we still had to have the home visit...


Peaches at home

I must say we were slightly apprehensive based on our friends' experience and I was not allowed to say anything until we had passed the test. One concern is the busy main road but we have high fences and older cats are less likely to go mountaineering over the wall.

Anyhow we passed the visit and if we were being assessed it was done very discreetly - more like a cosy chat on the perils of cat ownership but we are old hands. Having had the OK on the Friday evening we went down Sunday lunchtime to collect the 'monsters'.


Blue at home

They are still settling in but so far it seems to be going smoothly. The first 24 hours they hid in the darkest corners but now - a week later - they are out and about although still easily spooked. I am grooming Blue daily as she had a number of knots that the CPL had to have shaved off and I want to prevent reforming.

Time will, I am sure, see them settle in and become our new companion animals :-)

Lion and cubs playing in Madikwe Game Reserve

Mary pointed out that my new camera (early Christmas present) has video capability so I started taking a few video clips to supplement all the photos. This is Mary's favourite:

Cleo's Ashes

Saturday morning I collected Cleo's ashes from the Vets. They are now nourishing the roots of a rosebush and not just any old rosebush.

When we lost Oliver, our Persian ginger tom, to an RTA a few years back we buried him near the bottom of the garden. You can do that when you have half an acre. Our neighbour, cat feeder and house-minder Mike bought us a rose called appropriately "Whiskey Mac" which we planted next to Oliver. When we lost Oscar ["Saddest news about Oscar"] we buried him next to his chum Oliver.

When we sold the cottage the rose was the one plant we had to bring with us; by that time we already knew Cleo's biopsy results. A small London garden is not really suitable for an inhumation so we had an individual cremation for Cleo. Her ashes went in first then a little soil to cover, then some fish and bone meal then the rose.

I cannot be doing with this macho "boys don't cry" b*ll*cks. I had a good old sob but in the summer I can look at the roses and smile.

End of two eras

Yesterday was big day for us.

We are happy to say that we finally exchanged contracts on Avon Cottage yesterday and the sale will complete on Friday. We had a great 13 years there and feel like we are passing a piece of history over to a new set of caretakers in a better state than we got it. From talking to Karen and Andrew, our buyers, we are sure that they will take as much care of it as we did.

We are sad to say that Cleo passed away yesterday. The problem with her tooth at the end of January proved to be an aggressive form of cancer and the vet warned that she did not have long left. We watched her very carefully and yesterday we knew that the time had come to take her to the vet, while she was still purring. She was almost 17 years old and we are very grateful to have had her for so long.


Cleo at eight weeks / Cleo as an adult

Both Mark and I are relieved that the stress of the last few weeks is over, Cleo is not suffering and it now feels like a new start in Fairfield Street.

Cleo's teeth

Poor old Cleo had some teeth out yesterday. Thank goodness she goes in regularly for blood tests for her thyroid levels. Since her last visit she had taken to dribbling a bit and recently got a bit smelly. It never occurred to me it was bad breath indicating dental problems.

I took her in yesterday expecting a five minute visit to take a blood sample and walked out minus cat having signed a waiver form for an operation. A worrying few hours passed until the vet called at 1pm; a general anaesthetic always has some risk and for a 16 year cat that has to be a concern.



Fortunately she is a robust old girl and came through it and recovered well from the anaethetic. After discussion with the vet, Emma, we decided to leave her in overnight and collect her this morning. So now she is back home with a heap of antibiotics and pain relief. Now we await the results of the biopsy to find out whether it was a nasty infection or something worse.

Cleo behind bars

Mary got so fed up with Cleo widdling on the wainscoting that she bought a dog gate to confine her to the kitchen. We let her out when we are home but when we are out or asleep she is herded back behind bars:


A-h-h! Cruel owners!

From a distance Mary spotted a warning label on the frame and into her head popped the thought that it might read "Warning this gate may contain cats!"

We do let her out into the garden but without a cat flap this is a human-operated cat kitchen-back-door. Tuesday afternoon our friend John, who is doing a bit of decorating for us, let Cleo out. And would she come back in? No, the little Minx ran away whenever John got near and would not be herded. So she was locked out until Mary got home from Italian class at 9:30pm. In Cleo rushed with much loud protesting! That'll teach her (maybe, maybe not).

Yahrzeit for Oscar

Friday just past it was one year since Oscar the cat died [The Saddest News About Oscar]. I raised a glass of champagne with Mary to absent friends and lit a candle in front of a small statuette we have of two cats. With his death a little bit of joy left my life. I mourn his passing and do my best to remember the joy he brought me.

Cleopatra's teeth

The reason I had always planned to work at home Friday was not the bombings but that Cleo was going in to Cedar Vets for a teeth scale and polish (it just worked out that way). This procedure is done under a general anaesthetic which is always a concern especially for a 15 year old cat.

I was, I admit, a little nervous having lost Oliver and Oscar in the last two years. As it was she came through with flying colours: teeth gleaming and not one extraction. The reason to do it now is preventive to try and avoid a toothless old age for her. Happily I seem to have got the timing right.

She is doing very well for a cat of her age which I attribute to her beings a GPM (General Purpose Moggie). The feline equivalent of a mongrel, a bit of mixed parentage seems to imbue her with hybrid vigour. I must ask Ian if he knows how her litter mates are doing.

Kamikaze cat prevention

Having a cat in a fourth floor flat presents problems as summer approaches and we want to open the windows. Apparently a previous occupant's cat did jump and survived unharmed but not something I would not want to even think about risking with Cleo.

Sunday was spent assembling some mesh inserts from Cataire Screening which fit the bill and the secondary glazing slots very nicely. Assemble it yourself aluminium frames with black nylon mesh (hardly visible) which temporarily replace the sliding glazing panels for some cool summer breeze.

Good value and exactly what we wanted: definitely recommended!

Ghost cats

It was strange to go back to an empty Avon Cottage and not be greeted by a feline welcoming committee. I am so used to Oscar trotting up to the door to say hello. He did not so much demand attention but more invited it by his desire to be in the company of humans.



Several times in my mind I would see him trotting over to say hello or catch a glimpse of something in the corner of my eye and turn to see not Oscar but a pair of discarded jeans on the floor. The house is emptier without him, I do miss him and it still hardly seems real.

Original post The saddest news about Oscar

Spawn of Satan

[Thursday 24 December 2004]
Witchs' familiar! That black cat did it again: clawing at the door, widdling in the bathroom. Sleep deprivation and a rude awakening. The alternative? Leave the door open and get her duvet dancing at 4 am and purring all night like a micro diesel engine. Sleep deprivation is a terrible thing. How do parents cope?

Feline alarm call

Who needs an alarm clock when you have a furry friend trying to tunnel her way into the bedroom through the laminate flooring. So I got up for a pee to discover the cat had beaten me to it. Only instead of the litter tray she had used the bathroom floor. Mopping out is not how I had hoped to start my day.

I tiptoed out leaving Mary pushing out Z-Z-Zs. It had been a long evening; Mary travelling down from Scotland and me doing serial drinking:
• First with a colleague for a quick glass of wine after work.
• Then down to Norbiton on the train for Chris and Sue's "At Home". Chris lectures in Space Technology at Kingston Poly University.
• Finally back to Wandsworth to meet Mary off the train from Stansted for a night cap at Konnigans.

In bed just after midnight and only a long-stop alarm. I would have really appreciated that extra hour's sleep but I had reckoned without Cleo. I must try clipping her claws sometime.

The saddest news about Oscar

This is really Friday's post but in truth one I would not have expected to write for several years. Sitting in the lounge at Zurich airport on Thursday evening I got a call from Mike who feeds our cats while we are away. He had arrived to find Oscar collapsed and ran him straight round to the vets. Ten minute later the vet returned my call to break the news that Oscar had a blocked urinary tract. The back pressure messes up the kidneys and the whole body electrolytes, he was very unwell. They gave him an anaesthetic in order to catheterise him but too late. A couple of minutes later and he was dead; no easy way to say it. I shall miss him dreadfully.

All night I was in shock. It was not until I broke the news to Mary early Friday morning that I broke down. He was my favorite of all the cats we have had. By a long way. He was the world's friendliest cat with a large fan club. Everyone who met him fell in love with him; who could not? We always said if he went missing we would have a huge list of suspects.

We changed our plans and went home Friday night. We had been planning a full weekend in London to celebrate our 11th wedding anniversary. Instead we had a quiet evening at home, then went to collect Oscar on Saturday morning using the same wooden Louis Latour box that we had used for his chum Oliver. We buried him at the top of the garden next to Oliver wrapped in an Egyptian cotton shawl that Mary bought on our honeymoon, along with a catnip Christmas sock that had been well slobbered on. I may not believe in an afterlife but it seemed the right thing to do.

Why was he such a lovable cat? Well all cats are characters but Oscar was a prince amongst cats and I loved him to bits. He brought both of us so much joy. When I was with him I would laugh a dozen times a day. His traits included:
• He loved crisps. He would tap you on the arm with a paw if you were eating some, but only full-fat crisps.
• Ditto chocolate.
• When you took your shoes off he would go and lie on them, usually with a paw down one.
• Boxes would be jumped into within seconds (but that he shared with most cats).
• Walking down the garden he would overtake you, stop and fall over to have his tummy tickled. If you kept walking he would do it all over again.
• He changed the way I dry myself getting out of the shower. I used to start at the top and work down but Oscar would wrap himself round my still wet legs and I would end up with damp fur round the ankles. Now I do my shins and calves first.
• He loved to be cradled like a babe in arms. This is not just me picking him up that way, the nurses at the vet's discovered this independently when he was last in overnight.

And that is how I last held him when I said farewell. It still hardly seems real.