"Four furry felines... Boo, the eldest and most intelligent, is really more Kate's cat, even though he was mine to start off with; Kitley, the second eldest, was a real "Daddy's girl".   Flipper, our newest addition, hasn't made up her mind who she belongs to yet...   but Gingee is most definitely "Mummy's little boy"

Here they are in order of seniority...

This is Boo - short for "Boojums" - lounging in his "day bed" in the kitchen. His mother was a Brown Burmese and his daddy an Abyssinian, and although it's not the most wonderful photo of him, you can see that he looks very much like his daddy! He's a big strong cat too, standing about 30cm at his shoulders, and he's very, very intelligent; a cat who can think and work things out. We've had to put round doorknobs on all the doors we don't want him to open, otherwise he just opens them by jumping up and swinging on the latch until the door swings open. It's the main reason we put a round doorknob on the Bathroom door - we had to move all our indoor plant in there because he loves to eat anything green and growing, like indoor plants, which he then happily sicks up on our pale pink carpet (not our choice! It was in the house when we bought it!)

And this is Kitley - short for "We can't keep calling her 'Ther-Kitten' forever!" She was about six months younger than Boo, and less than half his size. She was over eighteen years old when she died last year but looked more like a 15 month old kitten - a real-life Nermal (the world's cutest kitten - and was, for all of her adult life!). Unlike Boo, she had no "aristocatic" blood, and very few brains- she was a sweet little "blond" moggie who would sit there looking owlishly at you in an earnest attempt to communicate but never quite succeeding. She was however very good at getting us to take her on numerous expensive trips to the Vet, which she didn't really seem to enjoy, so I'm quite at a loss as to why she did it. Her favourite hobby was sleeping in the computer room with me, either on my chair (as soon as I stood up!), on her day bed next to my chair, on "daddy's" chair (on the other side of my chair), or on the heater vent under the desk (completely blocking it off so that she kept warm, and we froze), during the winter

Then there's Gingee. Gingee is a ginger coloured now *ex* tomcat stray who "adopted" us. Since we didn't want an entire male marking his territory around our house, we whisked him off the the vet for his little operation as soon as it became apparent that he wanted to live with us. He seems to have settled in nicely and is now completely at home in the wonderful world of "inside". He's still a bit wary of strangers, and he's extremely insecure and jealous of Boo and Kitley. The poor little boy must have had a dreadful life before he came to us - he's terrified of belts and boots (shoes are O.K.), and he's very wary of men he doesn't know.... he's quite a beautiful boy, with soft red fur and golden eyes - we think he's around two and a half years old. We'd seen him around and about the place for some time but it wasn't until I was feeding Boo and Kitley one night that he really came to our attention. Boo eats his dinner by the back door, and Gingee was on the back porch - he could see Boo eating his dinner, he could smell Boo eating his dinner, and he could hear Boo eating his dinner. Gingee started meowing and wailing that he was hungry too, and where was his dinner?! (shrug) What could I do?! ... he was making such a fuss... so I fed him, too. Then I gave him supper... and breakfast... and the poor little thing was soooo hungry and cold and lonely... <smile> ...and so we acquired a third cat... :-)

Update on Gingee: He has now become a complacent, "chubby" (coff coff!   Read: "fat"!) house cat... He's very affectionate, but doesn't like being cuddled (much to Kate's chagrin! She loves cuddling cats) And while he and Boo don't really get on well together (they have their moments...), largely they co-exist reasonably well. Kitley was another matter. I don't think she ever got used to him, and he never quite knew what to make of her as she always hissed and spat if he even wandered past the computer room door!

Flipper...   "It was a dark and stormy night" - I've always wanted a legitimate excuse to use that phrase, and now I have!  It was indeed a "dark and stormy night" when Flipper, a cat we knew from "across the road somewhere", turned up on our back door step, demanding to be let in.  We didn't of course, but she followed us around the house, from windowsill to windowsill.  In vain we tried to block our ears to the pitiful meowing!  We compromised.  We gave her a warm box in the garage for the night, thinking that she'd go home as soon as the storm ended.   She was still there the next morning, again demanding to be let in... so we did.   She wanted cuddles, she smooched the other cats, she sat quietly and demurely when Gingee challenged her...  She was in effect saying "See how good I am!   I'd fit in really well...  I'm so nice that you can't help but love me... You do love me, don't you?  Hmmmm? Hmmmm?"

Although we knew she was from "across the road, somewhere", we didn't know exactly where she lived, so we did a door knock of the street.  Well, it turned out that she lived exactly opposite us, but her owner was away and she and her companion cat were being looked after by a gentleman (and I use the term loosely!!) who didn't exactly like cats.  He hated them.   To cut a long story short, we politely offered to look after her ourselves until her owner got back.   Flipper had a bad ear infection which had turned chronic - we had it treated.   Flipper was skin and bones - we fed her.  Flipper had fleas!   Arrgghhh!  We got rid of them.

Now, before you go thinking what a terrible owner she must have had, that's not true!   Her erstwhile owner is a very nice young lady who loved Flipper dearly and looked after her well... when she was at home.   Unfortunately, she was away a lot of the time.  Anyway, when Flipper's owner eventually got back, we exchanged pleasantries with N*, and Flipper went home.  We missed Flipper, and often I'd see her sitting in the window across the road gazing wistfully across at our place.  A few days passed... and all of a sudden, there was Flipper on the windowsill again, demanding to be let in!  We let her in, made a fuss of her, then my equal but more technical half tucked her under his arm and took her back... the closer they got to her place, the more she struggled to get down.  Her owner greeted them at the door in tears.  Flipper had gone of her food, sulked, beat up on her companion cat unmercifully, shed great chunks of hair all over the place, and wouldn't have a bar of N*!   In the end, it was decided that "for the good of the children", Flipper should come and live with us, and Julian returned with a now triumphant Flipper once more tucked under his arm.

As it turns out, Flipper (because she was grey on top and creamy white underneath, like a little dolphin) is not the sweet, demure, "butter-wouldn't-melt" cat after all, now that she's got her own way!  She's sassy and independent, aloof but demanding, and very pretty.  She gets on well with Boo and Gingee (more so Boo than Gingee, who tends to be a bit too rough for her liking)  She's fascinated by water and will spend hours watching a dripping or gently running tap, and her favourite pastime, next to sleeping or playing chasey with Boo, is "killing" a small bell on the end of a long string."

NB: This page shamelessly plagiarized by me from Winter's Cat-a-Logue

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