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Friday, 26 May 2017

Into the Wild Open Spaces

You know about Pixie and Dixie, our two tabby kittens.

For almost 6 months these "Children of the Revolution" have been locked up. Look you don't allow two she cats out onto the turf unless they've had their "bits and bobs" removed and there's zero chance of some randy tom putting them "Up the Junction".

At the end of April they went to the Vets to have their lineage cut short. We felt real heels but it had to be done. It took a while to catch them but when we did they came along quietly.

At the Vets we were given tranquillisers to prepare us for the inevitable. After endless reassurances that our babies would come to no harm we reluctantly left them with a very helpful nurse.

The next day we were confronted by two little Elizabethan ruffs. They looked so sweet! Our guilt grew as these tiny bundles of joy nodded their way around the house. They bumped into everything, spent hours scratching their plastic ruffs and took a while figuring out how to get their faces into their food bowls.

They are so bright. In no time at all, it was if the ruffs weren't there. We, however, felt guilty and so we decided that instead of ruffs to prevent them from opening up their stitches we'd dress them in "Onesies". So we bought baby's "Onesies" from Sainsbury's and  tailored them for two small tabbies. It didn't work. They looked awful and the clothes didn't fit. Think Donovan and "Top of the Pops" circa 1965.

Then they were given the all clear. The stitches were fine, they were healing perfectly and at last the little blighters could be unleashed on an unsuspecting back garden. Except we were so nervous about letting our little treasures out into the wild open spaces.

We bought them harnesses and leads. That would work wouldn't it. We'd let them out into the garden on leads. No chance of them bounding off into infinity and beyond. At the beginning of this week we tried to get our little bundles of joy dressed up in their harnesses and leads. Dixie was fine. She took to it like a fish to water. She was tentative - wouldn't you be - but she knew that outside meant unlimited opportunities to catch flies.

Pixie would have none of it. The sight of a harness had her flying upstairs, so in the end we took the plunge, left open the back door and prayed. They were out like a shot. Scampering all over the garden, even Ginja the Ninja joined in chasing the kittens in and out of the pots and shrubs.

They are a delight. They are so free, so adventurous and so tired after 14 hours haring around the place, eating more flies than the Lord of the Flies knew existed.

We have to monitor their progress as do all good, concerned  parents, so one of us is there making sure that should they climb a tree we tell them to get down. Their joy is tinged with our sadness. We know that their kitten days are drawing to a close.

At the moment I have two little gems completely zonked out at my feet.

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