Decorated

Decorated

The cats were not enthralled with the idea of being decorated for Christmas. There was a great deal of rushing around as they tried to rid themselves of the rustling, strange-smelling adornments. Thus, in some instances, their photographs are rather fuzzy

'Who will rid me of this turbulent tinsel?'

Herschel decides on the off-the-shoulder look

Jellicoe raced around as if by moving really quickly the thing around his neck would be left behind. His off-the-shoulder look eventually became an off-the-tummy look and finally an on-the-floor look. He and Herschel quickly forgave me for my insult to their dignity, Jellicoe even deciding to sleep on the tinsel. It's true, as Eleanor Farjeon said, 'Cats sleep anywhere.'

Gilbert and Roxy took the whole exercise in their stride and didn't attempt to escape. 

                                Just look at those eyes!

                        How long will it be before I'm disturbed?

                                                 Not long!

                                    I love him really!

Gilbert and Roxy went to sleep with their fancy collars. Is there a poem starting, 'Dogs sleep anywhere'? There should be.

Learning by heart

 

Learning by heart  

Not a grey mouse, but a small brown field mouse a few years ago in our garden.

When I was a child I used to enjoy reading and learning poems at home, encouraged by my parents. I learnt the following little rhyme but have never been able to trace it. I have searched everywhere without success. I’m sure there were further verses which I cannot recall.

 

A little grey mouse, so plump and sleek,

Crept out from I know not where,

And betwixt the rails of the iron road

Sat nibbling its dainty fare.

 

A paper of crumbs most happily found

And by somebody cast aside,

Did now for the tiny bright-eyed thing

A heaven-sent meal provide.

 

It took me a very long time to understand what was meant by ‘the rails of the iron road’.

I continued ‘committing to memory’ various verses, ‘All the world’s a stage’ from ‘As you like it’ being a favourite, along with John Donne’s ‘No man is an island’ and Keats’s ‘Isabella, or The Pot of Basil’, the latter being thrillingly, romantically grotesque for a fifteen-year-old.

Later, my verse reading was directed more to children’s poetry. An all-time favourite, Eleanor Farjeon’s poem ‘Cats sleep anywhere’ is still taught, though I think it might be limited now to speech and drama classes and competitions.

 Do you remember poems from your youth?

 

Cats!

Cats!

We have had a number of cats throughout the years, even, for a brief period, breeding them. Our Burmese were recommended  by our vets, to people seeking kittens, for their friendly dispositions and apparent immunity to alarm. We had four children and they and their friends were instrumental in ensuring that our kittens grew up used to the hustle and bustle of a busy home and loving the attention they were given.

Recently I read Eleanor Farjeon’s poem ‘Cats Sleep Anywhere’ to Frankie. It’s a poem many of us will have learnt at school (and then forgotten apart from the first couple of lines!)

Cats Sleep Anywhere

Cats sleep anywhere, any table, any chair.

Top of piano, window-ledge, in the middle, on the edge.

Open drawer, empty shoe, anybody’s lap will do.

Fitted in a cardboard box, in the cupboard with your frocks.

Anywhere! They don’t care! Cats sleep anywhere.

Eleanor Farjeon 1881-1965

This was the cover of my copy of the poem.

Here is a small selection from the thousands of photos we have of our many cats. Many of them are pictured with our dogs. All our cats have loved our dogs. Some of them enjoyed blogging. Some were quite literary. Some enjoyed watching educational programmes on the television . . . or rugby.

Jellicoe,  our 4-year-old  Classic Ocicat . Classics are now known as Aztecs!

Susannah's  one-year-old Somali, Solomon

Marnie with the late Pansy, one of our blue Burmese, about fourteen years ago.

Jellicoe pretending to be a lap cushion!

The late Monty Ocicat with a young Jenna. Monty died when he was three of congestive heart failure

Susannah's Abyssinian, Pats, as a kitten. She is now ten years old.

Jenna with Winston Ocicat, who died unexpectedly when he was six years old.

Susannah providing a perch for Winston

Monty with the late, great Frodo, my velcro dog

Monty loved watching television . . .

. . . and he would not move to allow a dog into a dog bed.  Here it's Jenna trying to get comfortable.

Young Frodo with elderly blue Burmese, Pansy (top) and Singleton.  

If the cats have a squabble, as cats frequently will, they sometimes seek solace. Here it is  Cariadd, our first Dalmatian, doing the honours. There are six Burmese cats sitting on her. To her right are the hindquarters of Biddy, our first Jack Russell.

Christmas Winston!

Winston appreciating my Kindle

Clown, Magic and Angus, all Burmese. Clown and Angus were brothers.

Alicat, our first Burmese, with Bethan, thirty-three years ago

The cats liked sitting and sleeping on the aquarium cover. It was warm and there was always a slight chance that they might catch a snack! Here are, from left to right, Magic, Angus, Pansy, Alicat(behind Pansy), Sweet Pea, Clown and Singleton

Monty studying a spotted cousin . . .

 . . . and here listening to Jim Al-Khalili

Monty and Winston

Winston the blogger

Jellicoe and Isambard sharing Bertie's bed

Herschel and Bertie