Destruction!

 

Destruction!

                                Pansy and Clown (blue and chocolate)

Warning! If you are averse to animals, do not read on.

Polly spoke about her Labrador breeding friends and the destruction the puppies wrought, and it reminded me of our brief foray into breeding Burmese cats.

It had never been our intention to breed cats. We had had an accidental breeding of Jack Russells, which was fun for the children, and also why we ended up with four of them – JRs, I mean, though we did have four children, too.

My sister and brother-in-law had a beautiful brown Burmese, called Tip, because he had a white tip to his tail. A few years after I left home – the baby of the family - they gave my parents a little queen who had come to the end of her breeding programme (!) Liza gave them a great deal of pleasure and much appreciated the freedom and love they gave her.

When we decided to acquire a cat, we remembered how affectionate and curious Burmese cats were, and found a local breeder, who had a pretty little brown queen, a few months old. They encouraged us to breed from her, and we thought it would be interesting for the children. That encouragement is not generally given these days, but this was many years ago.

The kittens were enchanting. From Alicat we had brown, chocolate, blue and lilac offspring. Each child and its friends had different favourites, so, naturally, we ended up with quite a few cats.

Pansy Blue as a kitten

People often claim to ‘know’ that cats and dogs are instinctive enemies and cannot live together, and take pleasure in promulgating the myth. We have found them to be allies and friends. The cats groom the dogs’ heads and faces and the dogs step between arguing cats to defuse the situation, as they would with warring dogs.

              Cariadd, (Dalmatian) with six Burmese, one brown, one blue, three chocolates and a lilac. They would climb on her for comfort if they started arguing.

We were extraordinarily lucky with the Jack Russells, known chasers – and killers – of fur. When we brought Alicat home, I sat down, and Daisy JR jumped up on my lap! We never had a problem with them, but I would not risk it again. It just didn’t occur to us to worry.

Puppies are fun, adventurous, and messy, but they don’t climb. Kittens clamber up everything in sight, including people. The view from the top of someone’s head, or the curtains, is exciting and different. If there are no people or furniture available to ascend, the wallpaper will do.

Inevitably, the time came, at three months of age, to bid the kittens farewell to their new homes. Interviewing prospective owners was never a job we relished, but we wanted to ensure our little creatures went to loving homes. Equally, I felt we had to be honest about what they were taking on. Burmese kittens do not lie around looking beautiful, although they can. They are adventurous and curious and can get themselves into unusual hiding places.

We once lost a litter temporarily. We had put them in our en suite shower room, where we were sure they would be safe and could not escape. When I went in to check on them and feed them, I couldn’t see them anywhere. Our shower room is not vast and the window was securely closed. Panic set in momentarily but something caused me to look more closely at the bidet and sure enough, the kittens were tucked safely under the pedestal. They soon emerged for their food, and we found a different room for them to grow up in.

As well as giving prospective owners directions to our house, a task at which I am still very poor, I would test their resolve by telling them what to expect. If they were experienced cat people, they would quickly understand. One man put it succinctly – ‘So, we look for the house with the wallpaper hanging off in shreds.’ I agreed that was the case and he came to collect his kitten anyway.

While kittens may not eat the carpet or the plaster on the walls, or chew the door frame, your shoes, or anything else that takes their fancy, as puppies will, they have sharp claws, like needles. They will tear at your soft furnishings, turn the stair carpet into a series of scratching posts, scale the heights of the kitchen cupboards, and pierce your heart with their unbelievably silky fur and huge, lustrous eyes. A warm purring cat on your lap or next to you as you lie on your bed is worth more than a king’s ransom.

If dog/s join the cat/s, you are more blessed than you could imagine.

We haven’t bred puppies, or kittens for many years. It is exhausting, being responsible for so many tiny beings. Guinea pigs, mice and gerbils are much easier, but once our children grew out of the farming phase, we ceased breeding altogether. Oh, that is, until our youngest child was born. She came during the cat breeding phase. We must have got muddled, somewhere! 

Herbert with Bethan

Burmese

 

Burmese

Pansy Blue

Reading ‘My neighbour’s cats’ on ‘Deb’s Despatches’ reminded me of our Burmese cats.

We decided to add a cat to our menagerie of dogs, gerbils and guinea pigs because our then youngest child wanted a rabbit. Gillian, her elder sister, had had a couple of pet rabbits which had come to a sad end, courtesy of Brer Fox, and we didn’t feel inclined to repeat the whole sorry exercise. We persuaded Susannah that a cat would be a lovely alternative and duly went to see a breeder of Burmese cats not far from us.

Lilac Angus, my velcro cat

Why did we choose Burmese? My sister and brother-in-law had a gorgeous, very friendly brown Burmese (called Tip, because he had a white tip to his tail) and they had also given my parents a tortie queen who had been used in a breeding programme to produce a blue Burmese.

The breeders didn’t have any kittens but did offer a petite brown Burmese of about five months old. She was called Coriander Autumn Lady and we never actually decided on a name for her, so she ended up being called Alicat, except for our vet who called her Corrie.

We were entranced by her and brought her home on a Saturday to the bemusement of our Jack Russell terriers. Daisy, the youngest, leapt onto my lap, and Ali never had a problem with the dogs.

We were encouraged to breed from her and being enthusiastic and not very knowledgeable, thought it would be fun and educational for the children. The night she had her first litter she came and gently patted my face with her paw to wake me so that I could be with her while she gave birth to five kittens. We kept two, a chocolate queen we called Sweet Pea, and a brown tom, Herbert.

A basketful of kittens, one blue, one chocolate and two brown

Sweet Pea had an overwhelming maternal urge and allowed Ali’s kittens from her second litter to suckle her, actually removing one teat. When she had her own kittens she was fiercely protective. Biddy was wandering past her one day, minding her own business, when Sweet Pea lashed out at her. Wisely, Biddy beat a hasty retreat.

At the time, we kept the cats indoors with an outside run accessible from the house. We made it clear to the children that they MUST NOT let Alicat out when she was calling. Inevitably, Ali wished to make her own arrangements, slipped out and danced across the lawn with a very fetching tom cat. The resulting kittens were beautiful and we kept one, a lovely black girl with golden eyes. We called her Boadicea and every time we saw the vet we had a discussion about the correct name, which, of course, is Boudicca.

Like Siamese cats, Burmese are very vocal and have piercing, quite melodious voices. Many times, callers on the ‘phone would enquire if we had a baby in the house. They are also very gregarious, requiring and appreciating human company. 

Herbert with Bethan

If humans were in short supply, any dog would do.

Cariadd hosts a collection of cats

Frodo with Pansy, top, and Singleton

Cariadd with Pansy

They enjoyed riding on our shoulders and assumed that any shoulders would suffice, so that anyone visiting us and standing still for a moment was liable to find themselves hosting a furry adornment. That was quite startling for unsuspecting visitors and the solution was to find a seat immediately, as the cats realised they were not going to gain height from a lap.

Running up a human’s back was another source of entertainment, both for the cats and for observers, though not so much for the living, breathing, now screaming climbing frame.

The cats worked in tandem with the dogs to break into the fridge and sample the tasty treats within. Fridge locks were not so readily available so we had to devise a means of barring access. I believe we used gaffer tape. We had already tightened the ball catches on our doors to stop the cats opening the doors to join us upstairs and have midnight playtime across our faces. A further exercise in imagination was to find a way of keeping the tropical fish safe from the marauding paws of inquisitive felines. These days it is possible to buy aquaria with lids, but they weren’t available then, so Barry had to practise his joinery skills to make a lid.  

It was always warm on the aquarium lid and there was always a slight chance of nabbing a fish when the lid was lifted to feed them

Meanwhile, dreams would have to do

Explaining to prospective new owners of our lively kittens just what they might be taking on was interesting. The kittens explored everything and could disappear into the smallest crevices, and apart from the usual climbing wall provided by curtains, they also liked the texture of wallpaper and could clamber from floor to ceiling in remarkably quick time. Summarising what I had said on the ‘phone, one man said, ‘So, we look for a house with the wallpaper hanging off the walls?’ I agreed, and it didn’t put him off.  

Our children’s friends all had their favourites among the cats, but one that was popular with everyone was Singleton. She was a blue Burmese and the only kitten in Sweet Pea’s second litter. In common with many oriental breeds, she was cross-eyed, which added to her appeal.

We didn’t breed many litters but our vets would always recommend us to anyone looking for beautiful, bomb-proof kittens. I don’t regret those days but I have not been tempted to repeat them – well, not often.

Why did we have house cats and not allow them to roam freely? When I was a little girl I had a very pretty tabby and white kitten called Judy (to live alongside our Springer spaniel, Punch.) She was knocked down and killed and it broke my heart and I suppose I’ve never wanted to risk that again.

The second question is, why have pedigree cats when there are so many moggies looking for homes? Moggies are born free spirits and might find it difficult to live as house cats, though undoubtedly some adapt. My children and I agree to disagree on this. Like toddlers and dogs, I like to know where my cats are at all times – when they’re not hiding under a bush or secreted in a cupboard!

Angus chatting

A Life Full of Animals - part one

 

A Life Full of Animals - part one

I have never known a time in my life without animals, apart from the three years I was at college.

My earliest memory is of Bob the Collie, for whom my father laid a place at the table. There followed Sombre the Smooth-coated Collie, Ginger the cat, Punch the Springer and Judy the kitten.

The first dog Barry and I had was a yellow Labrador called Whisky. She was three years old and she was my birthday present from Barry when I was in my final year. I couldn’t keep her at college so Barry kept her in the officers’ mess at RMCS Shrivenham, where she led a very convivial life. She was a patient and very friendly dog, and eventually a great companion to and protector of our young children. 

Whisky with Gareth

We thought her not to be a natural guard dog, barking only at buses and ladders, until one night in Northern Ireland when Barry came home very late, she barked menacingly at him before she realised who he was and was then abjectly apologetic. She was not averse to helping herself to choice morsels from other people’s shopping baskets, when the opportunity presented itself, and enjoyed ‘picking’ blackberries, too.

Biddy with Gillian

As she aged and our children grew, we decided to get another dog, to ease the pain of Whisky’s passing, when the time came. Thus we acquired Biddy, a 7-month-old smooth-coated Jack Russell terrier, (JR) the long-legged variety now known as Parson Jack Russell. She had already been cubbing and never lost her penchant for searching underground, once disappearing for several hours and emerging mostly brown, rather than her usual tan and white. She was enormous fun, always seeking to ingratiate herself by sliding round on one shoulder in front of one of us and submitting. She was very much Barry’s dog, loving to huddle inside his jacket. When he wasn’t around, Biddy’s preferred companion was Gareth, particularly in the forest. She was expert at climbing trees.

Biddy and Gareth

After Whisky died, Biddy was lonely, missing her old companion and so we got Leo, a rough-coated, short-legged Jack Russell. He had been a stud dog and in our innocence we thought we would have no problem keeping him and Biddy apart when she came into season. How wrong we were! Biddy had five adorable puppies, and we kept Daisy and Sam. Daisy was a very pretty broken-coated girl and liked sleeping in the cat beds we suspended from the radiators, for by now, we had a cat, a beautiful brown Burmese.

Leo

Susannah, Gillian and Gareth with Biddy and her five puppies

Daisy

Daisy, Sam and Biddy at the seaside

This came about because Susannah had wanted a rabbit. We had experienced heart-ache with Gillian’s previous rabbits and so persuaded Susannah that a cat would be preferable. We called her Alicat and we were encouraged to breed from her. JRs are reputed to be cat killers but when we brought Alicat home, Daisy jumped on my lap, watched by the other three, and we never had a problem. Of course, each of our then three children had a different favourite kitten and soon our menagerie grew, until by the time Bethan, our fourth child, arrived, we had four JRs and nine Burmese. We also had guinea pigs and pet mice and gerbils, all of which reproduced at will.

Sam with Susannah and Bethan

Bethan with Barry, Sam and Daisy

Sam was also broken-coated and immensely strong for his size. He loved collecting logs, the bigger the better. He really was a big dog in a little dog’s body. He and Leo did not get on once he grew up, so Leo went to live with my parents. Sam’s life was short and sweet. Out running with Barry one day, he ran off and was knocked down by a car. He died unexpectedly after surviving a few days with the vet. He was six years old. Biddy had spent much time licking his ears and little Daisy was somewhat overlooked. Clearly, Sam was his mother’s favourite and she pined for him.  We commenced our search for our next dog. 

I had long wanted a Dalmatian and soon Cariadd joined our family from Wales. She was smaller than the JRs when she first arrived, but soon outstripped them and proved to be a good problem-solver.

Biddy and Cariadd

Cariadd. Bethan, Biddy and Daisy

Barry holding one of Cariadd's longer 'sticks', watched by Bethan

She specialised in carrying long branches, more like young trees, through small gaps and was the perfect running mate for Barry. She also had a terrific smile, which worried people who were not familiar with dog smiles. We were sometimes told, ‘Your dog’s snarling at me.’

Many breeds of dog smile, or snark, some with closed lips, others with varying degrees of tooth display and nose wrinkling. I must admit it can look quite alarming!

I believe that once you have two or more dogs you can never go back to just one. Dogs need dogs and the one that’s left alone becomes depressed. A ‘new’ dog, whether baby puppy or older dog, rejuvenates the survivor and rekindles his or her energy and enthusiasm.

When our last JR, Daisy, died, we had to find a companion for Cariadd, and this came in the form of Dalmatian Dominie, from Devon, four months old and a really big puppy. She was as soft as butter, a little dog in a big dog’s disguise. Cariadd, not noted for her maternal instinct, allowed the youngster to chew her neck and never grumbled at her. Dominie was not well coordinated as a puppy and fell in our pond every day for a week as she thundered over the bridge, but she grew into an athletic dog who could turn on a sixpence, giving any chasing dog a great work out.

Dominie with our eldest grandson, Callum (now 25 and an expectant father)

We were very taken with our Dalmatians, delighting in their elegance and intelligence, and it was good to have not one, but two big dogs to which we could reach down a hand to be nuzzled. As Cariadd aged, and, sadly, dogs age too quickly, we decided to look for a third Dalmatian. Bethan had enjoyed building obstacle courses for Cariadd and was keen to try showing a dog. Dominie, beautiful though she was, was simply too big and Cariadd had never been keen on the show ring.

We thought it would be fun to have a liver Dalmatian, so green-eyed Buddy left his home in Cornwall to live with us. His eyes didn’t remain green. He was a handsome boy, devoted to Bethan. When we brought him home, Dominie’s expression was one of pure joy. We could almost hear her saying, ‘My puppy, oh, my puppy.’

Dominie with baby Buddy

Labradors are renowned for being greedy, but Dalmatians can match, if not outpace them. Ours all learnt very quickly that food was freely available on work tops and we had to find places they could not reach. Naturally, they didn’t attempt to thieve while we watched. We were careful about not allowing them ‘dangerous’ foods, like grapes or macadamia nuts, but even so Buddy demolished a chocolate cake and lived to tell the tale. Our grandchildren still laugh about that.

Buddy does the leg work while Dominie waits

In the meantime, the cats were ruling the roost, and attempting to find a way into the fish tank for a tasty fresh snack. When they had a spat, as cats do, they would find a dog to curl up with. The cats never attacked the dogs, just each other. Sometimes, a dog would stand between two arguing cats, to calm them down.

Cariadd and 6 Burmese

After Buddy came seven-month–old Frodo, from Lincolnshire, a dog bred primarily for looks rather than temperament. He was always gentle and loving with everyone in our household, particularly Buddy, but reactive with unfamiliar dogs, not a good trait in a show dog. He became my Velcro dog and remained so until his death seven years ago.

 

Frodo the Faller

In place of a rabbit . . .

Clown, Magic and Angus

Clown and Magic were chocolate and Angus was lilac

Many years ago, when all my children were still living at home and my parents were alive and living near enough to be visited every day, I started to breed Burmese cats. It was a somewhat foolish venture – I had more than enough to occupy my days as I was also teaching full-time and Barry was frequently abroad on business – but it was fun.

It all started because Susannah, then my youngest child, said she would like a rabbit. We had dogs, of course, but a rabbit has such soft fur and feels so warm. We had had rabbits before, when Susannah was quite tiny, and they had all come to a premature end for one reason or another. Barry had reached the conclusion that rabbits were really too big to be penned, even in the palatial dwellings he constructed for them, with attached runs so that they could hop around outside when the fancy took them. We had tried house-training them – I knew it could be done as my mother had kept a house rabbit when she was a child – but we were singularly unsuccessful and couldn’t keep pace with the chewed wires which effectively severed us from the outside world.

Barry didn’t want to disappoint Susannah and so suggested that we get a cat. My sister and brother-in-law had owned a very beautiful brown Burmese cat and had given my parents a feisty little ex-breeding tortie queen. I had been very impressed by these striking cats and their strong personalities and so we began our search. We were fortunate in finding breeders not far from us who had a female a few months old. Knowing that we would not be able to resist her, nonetheless we went to see her and of course, brought her home with us. She gloried in the registered name of ‘Illuskass Coriander Autumn Lady’. (Illuskass was the breeders’ prefix and was Greek for ‘beautiful cat’.) We tried several names for her but never reached a definite decision and she eventually became known as Alicat, which sounds like Alley Cat but isn’t.

At that time we had three Jack Russell terriers, a breed known for their propensity to chase fur but when we carefully introduced the diminutive cat they behaved with great decorum. Daisy was so intent on ‘being good’ that she jumped up on my lap. We were persuaded by the breeders that it would be good to breed from Alicat and we were excited by the prospect of having home-grown kittens. How little we knew!

Alicat duly presented us with five delightful kittens. They were beautiful and we managed to avoid keeping all of them by selling three. A year or so later Ali had a second litter and then her daughter Sweet Pea gave birth to five and we kept a further two. Sweet Pea’s brother, Herbert, was terrified of kittens and stayed well clear of them.

Kittens in a cat carrier

From the top, brown, lilac, blue, brown

By now another human baby had joined the clan and was often to be seen sleeping with one or two kittens or cats in her cot, her bare feet luxuriating in the silky warmth of real fur. All those old wives’ tales of cats suffocating babies were disproved.

They were delightful cats, very affectionate and faithful and lively. Curtains were hung purely for their amusement, they thought, and the warm-to-the-touch wallpaper provided wonderful scratching surfaces. They jumped and climbed and clambered to the highest points in the room, settling on cupboard tops, easily capable of leaping eight feet, even while carrying a kitten. If a human were around, shoulders were the preferred perching post and assuming that position often involved climbing up the human. This could be painful, especially if said human were clad in thin clothes, like pyjamas, for example.

The first time I saw Ali carrying a kitten I was quite worried. The little creature was limp and seemed unconscious, not rallying for some while after being deposited in a new location. As each succeeding kitten behaved similarly I realised this reaction was entirely normal and part of Mother Nature’s scheme to protect little beings.

I made a point of telling potential purchasers of our kittens all the features of the Burmese breed that might put them off. They are very vocal cats, with loud voices, demanding a lot of attention, but enjoying conversation with their owners, frequently in the still of the night. They are elegantly clumsy and will knock over ornaments or vases and fall out of first floor windows. They are very intelligent and soon work out how to open doors. In cahoots with dogs they will frequently raid the fridge and the food cupboards. They are destructive and do not understand that curtains should not be reduced to scrambling nets nor wallpaper to paper fountains. They are not cats that take kindly to being left to their own devices, needing company and stimulation.

Our kittens always went to their new homes between twelve and sixteen weeks old when they were at their most beguiling. In each new litter there were individuals that demanded to be kept – at least that’s what the children felt. Finally, we decided that we should spay our two queens and enjoy the nine cats we had. With hindsight we should have resisted encouragement to breed from Ali but we never regretted it.  It was hard work and gave us all great pleasure although we would never encourage others to undertake it without serious thought.

When the cats squabbled they would take refuge on Cariadd who was always rather worried about the invasion but never protested. She is hosting six cats here, one brown, one blue, three chocolate and one lilac

We have never been tempted – well, perhaps just fleetingly – to breed from our Dalmatians!!