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Saturday, 12 June 2010

From the Underworld

This is getting rather obsessive but I've been able to stop taking the tranquillisers. Ginja is more or less back to  his old self. There's still a trace of nervousness: he's constantly seeking reassurance but the swagger is back! Phew, what a relief!

There is a new kid on the block. A large un-neutered tom that looks exactly like Sylvester (Tweety Pie's constant butt) is Ginja's nemesis. Our neighbour, Gregg, reported a massive Barney Rubble at around 8 am on Thursday morning. It was then, we suspect, the Battle of Milton Road took place. At this moment a plaque is being erected on the site to record the event.

 This morning I was knocked over by Bobby, a black tom of enormous size.He is so large he's often mistaken for a pit pony or a seaside donkey. He's a gentle giant - always pushing open front doors and eating up hand outs. His purr reminds me of that Eddie Izzard sketch where he imagines the cat  behind the sofa using a road drill. Bobby appears to be visiting all the neighbours. He and his brother Shamus are moving soon so we think this is by way of saying "Goodbye".

Cats fill our lives. They intersect at all angles and provide constant distractions and pleasure. Simply looking at their beauty can fill hours.

As companions they're ok, but not great: you have to work extremely hard to get their attention, and then in an instant, something more interesting has caught their fancy. Like inspecting their claws, or yawning. "Oh you still here are you?" is the expression on their face when they once again register your presence.

I suppose, it's rather silly paying all this attention to a dumb animal. Wouldn't we be better looking to the welfare of our fellow man and his offspring? Instead of spending pounds shoving expensive pates and  tenderised concoctions down the mutts' throats shouldn't we be giving to Save the Children or UNESCO?

Well, yes, I suppose people are right when they say that. Can't argue that there's a huge amount of suffering in the world and we're fortunate enough to be able to indulge our cats.

We spend more on them in a day than some people have to feed a family for a week. Their vet bills could provide a year's supply of desperately needed drugs in one of a hundred places in the world. But then the amount I pay for my mobile phone, or my broadband, cable TV and wine club is sufficient to remove many off the bread line.

It's a dilemma. When I actually think about it, which is not very often, I feel uncomfortable but do little about it except sponsor a friend or two on a charity walk.

I'm selfish; the cats benefit from that - especially Ginja the Ninja since he's my special pet. Maybe the first thing I should do is realise that and stop moaning about the little inconveniences and  obstacles that interrupt my otherwise extremely comfortable and privileged life.

In the meantime, I'll have another cup of tea, plod down to the allotment and lose myself in my broad beans and cabbages. 


Old Cheeser said...

Hi Barry,

Thank you for stopping by on my blog and commenting and also adding me to your blog roll! Appreciated. I see you write a lot about cats! I figured somewhere along the line you might be a Dr Who as well?!

Simon aka the Old Cheeser

Barry Coidan said...

I'm an on and off Whoer: the early days it was a staple food - that said there was nothing else on. Later it became rather silly - a bit like Sci-Fi "Cross Roads". It's re-invention has brought me, and many others back.

Old Cheeser said...

That's good to hear. Hoorah for the reinvention!