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Life with Lavendar in London town

Wednesday, 19 May 2010

The Cat's Whiskers

There are cat people and dog people in this world and I am the former.

I like dogs. But I wouldn’t want one. Not even a cat-sized one.

Cats on the other hand, are to me, the very raison d’ĂȘtre of life.


Which makes it all the more sad that I have been cat-less for nigh on seven years. Seven long, lonely years….

This exile is self imposed for you see, I have a bit of a history. See for yourself:

Fluffy - Orange tabby. Circa 1980. Grew really fat on Chinese food. Ran away with Flossy (see below)

Flossy - Silver tabby. Circa 1982. Stray that came and stayed.”Disappeared” on the same day as Fluffy (see above)

Misty – Grey shorthair. Circa 1985. Run over by heartless driver who left him on roadside. Buried under Mum’s rose bushes.

Otto – Grey shorthair. Circa 1986. Spooked by vacuum cleaner. Ran outside. never came back

Max – Ginger and white shorthair. Circa 1991. Had a long and happy life with my parents whom I left him with when I moved out. Put to sleep last year after being diagnosed with terminal cancer.

Moush – Black shorthair. Circa 1995. Another one I left with my parents when I moved overseas. Still alive. Speaks Chinese.

Rufus – Black longhair. Circa 2000. Another one I left. My parents said No More so my dear friend and her family welcomed him into their home. Human being in a cat body. I miss him the most.

Recently I could take it no more. I applied to Battersea Dogs and Cats Home to volunteer as a Cat Socialiser. What this means (before you think it involves hanging out with felines on a Friday night with a gin and tonic), is someone who spends time acclimatising cats to human company. Cats that are brought to the shelter may have been subject to tough circumstances which makes them surly, mistrustful or just plain psycho. What the Cat Socialiser does is hang out with the cat so that over time, the cat learns that human beings are Good and can be Trusted. Before they get adopted out to said humans and ruin their furniture.

A friend who had applied to Battersea to volunteer as a Dog Walker warned me that they were very particular with their volunteer recruitment. She, an ardent dog lover had been rejected with no good reason it seemed.

Oh that won’t happen to me, I thought. I’m practically Egyptian in regards to cats. The Felidae family and I are one.

I filled in the lengthy application form. I pledged away all my free time. I supplied them with referees.

And they rejected me. The bastards.

I have a cat-shaped hole in my life.

And it's getting bigger...

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