August 25, 2012 § 1 Comment
This is Weasley.
(Named after Ron Weasley.)
Also known as Weasels.
The day I moved onto the new croft I spotted a skinny ginger cat perched on the big water butt by the byre drinking from the rainwater with his paw.
He was pretty skittish and bolted as soon as I came anywhere near him, usually running up the croft and hiding in the long grass, peering out at me suspiciously.
I’d see him frequently over the coming couple of weeks as I worked in the byre and he became slightly less aloof and more interested in what I was doing. And eating.
Eating appeared to be the key to his confidence and as he looked like a skinny blaggard I threw him some offcuts of the oxtail I was chopping for a stew one night and he wolfed it down (excuse species confusing metaphor). This seemed to win his affections and pretty soon he was following me about and generally loitering annoyingly whenever I was around. We graduated to some chicken pieces, then a can of tuna and the rest is history.
He comes and goes from the house. The kitchen window is always open and he just wanders in when he feels like it. Sometimes he’s gone for a couple of days, other times he sleeps for 24 hours in the chair and then tries to steal my dinner.
I thought he was a stray but it turns out he belongs to the lady on the adjacent croft so I had to pay her a visit to confess we’d bonded and that if she’s missing a cat (she has 8 others and some dogs to boot) then the annoying ginge is with me.
Problem is he seems to be here more and more and I like his company. I throw him outside everyday but he sits on the doorstep most mornings and clambers in the window at lunchtime looking for a meal. This is cool with me but he’s not my cat and a quick squint confirms his wee cat nads are still intact which means he’ll no doubt be spraying his territory soon (he’s looks about a year old). But he’s put on some weight and his coat is looking much better and we’re now sorta pals so I think I may have to go next door at some point and either offer to adopt the little feline scrote or send him back with tough love, Harry and The Hendersons stylee.
Oh and he has fleas. Gross. Picked two off him one day so dosed him with Frontline and that seems to have cured him.
Never really been a cat guy but whaddya do?