Oscar
Oscar was a neutered male Brown Burmese and was rescued by us about 12 years ago. He was a good communicator as are all cats of this breed. He settled down fairly quickly and set about asserting his territorial rights in a gloves off styley. About an inch of his tail was missing presumably still attached to the car that narrowly missed the rest of him. His frequent punch ups when younger often led to inflammation and infection.
The picture above shows him relaxing in his garden, because as you well know we humans are merely possessions of the feline.
"But surely", interjected the professor "it is man who projects values on to an otherwise indifferent nature".
"True professor in some ways I agree with you, but look at him, are you really trying to tell me that the only things he's thinking about are food and cuddles?"
"Thinking? Thinking?" replied the professor incredulously, "Do you honestly beleive......" and so the only too predictable conversation went on until the professor got tired and decided that it was time to go and have some tea. "Ah so professor, now is that the emptiness in your belly telling you that you're hungry, or are you thinking that you're hungry?"
"Dear Boy, we could talk all night but you look tired, why dont you get an early night?"
"I dont know whether I'm tired or whether I need to push the boundaries beyond tiredness to fight off these fluey symptoms prof"
"Well Boy" I hated it when he called me boy, I hate it when anybody calls me boy. After all I'm an old man now. "Well boy" he went on "I cant imagine what and where but just go and get on with it, there's a good fellow.
Unfortunately Oscar, like his proper Dad, lives no more. Oscar lived in the same house as:
Tchibi
Tchibi was the diametric opposite of Oscar in the cat world. She was very gentle, but got bored if "there weren't enough things to do" or people entertaining her. She got on well with Oscar and they still enjoyed racing around the place well into Oscars old age.
Her pedigree heritage (Asian Ticked Tabby) was closer to the wild cat and her needs were sometimes subtle but more often basic. She once went missing and turned up 3 or 4 days later about a quarter of a mile away eating out of another cats dish. She had a serious bout of cat pox when she was quite young which was very nasty.
Her preference was for comfort. Her three favourite things were;
A. Settling down under a blanket or rug.
B. Kicking the edges of carpet, toy mice or her scratching pole with her hind legs.
c Resting on your shoulder.
One of their Italian cousins is:
Mohammed
"I said no paparazzi- see my tail"
Imagine a fluffy Siamese powerball, a veritable 100m athlete of a cat - that's what Mohammed used to look like.
These days, all that good living and what with being the biggest cat on the block he is a little bit more portly, a bit like Henry VIII really.
If you get on the sharp side of his claws you know about it. But he's just a boy really. He used to live on the top floor of a block of flats in the sulphuric metropolis of Pozzuoli. His favourite thing was to visit the neighbours flat use their cat litter tray, and eat their food.
When both his English cousins passed away within a few months of each other in 2010, he inherited their Estate and decided to upsticks to England.
His Mother Valentina still lives in Pozzuoli in the same flat and is an enigma.
Copyright © A.Edmonds 2010