Clio  

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'Dogs have owners; cats have staff'

'Cats have never forgotten that they were Gods in Egypt'

'I do not purr because you stroke—you stroke because I purr......I AM the cat...remember that...'

It has been a long while since I belonged to a cat.  I have shared my life with eight or more over the years—no more than six at the same time, though!—but the last one left home the day that Bill first came back from hospital in a wheelchair, and that was in 1989.

We had a German Shepherd for seven years but she died early of a 'blood tumour', according to the vet, and that was in 1997. Since then we put everything on hold because of our intended move to Spain, and when we got here it soon became apparent that the house and garden was not going to be suitable for a dog, so we let the matter rest.

But in May 2004 I heard of a young Siamese cat that was looking for a home...  A chap in Benitachell had found her in his garden when he arrived in the middle of May, and he took her to the vet and had all her injections done, the treatments for worming and de-fleaing, and had her spayed.  Unfortunately, he was not going to be able to keep her because he would not be able to get a pet passport for her to travel before the end of June and he didn't want her to go into quarantine. So he asked all his neighbours to put the word out, and one of them runs an Art Gallery which we visited last week.

Peter thought I had taken leave of my senses, and Bill washed his hands of all responsibility...but eventually they agreed that there wasn't any real reason why not.  So we picked her up from Nick in Benitachell on 2 June 2004.  Her documents from the vet show that her estimated date of birth is 2 February 2003, so that would make her exactly sixteen months.  Nick has been calling her Clio and says that she answers to it, so it seemed sensible to leave it at that, in the interests of not confusing her any further!

Nick said she was very good-tempered and liked company, and seemed to be very hungry and a little underweight, which is not surprising if she had been living rough.  She has the traditional china blue Siamese eyes—together with the traditional squint!—and has a  deformed  tail, which the vet later told us she thought was a congenital defect. It seems to be about half the length it should be and twice as thick...almost as though someone amused themselves by folding it in half and sewing it together at some stage.  Nevertheless, it still waves to indicate her moods.  And her colouring is fairly traditional as well.  She is a seal point, and her ears, mask and socks are all just right.  The rest of her coat is a little darker than normal, with still-darker areas along her back and over her shoulders.

But she has a very endearing way of looking up with her crossed-eyes, and giving an enquiring little 'miaow?' to see if you are taking notice of her.

We did, of course, turn the house upside down to make sure she was safe for the first few days until she knew her way around, but when we tried introducing her to the garden after a few days we found that she wasn't interested!    She has since been out for a short look round but doesn't like sudden noises, which send her racing for the safety of the house!  Perhaps she will get braver in due course.

We took her back to the vets after a month for a booster injection and various other undignified tests and treatment which left her a little shell-shocked!  Still, the health report was very good, and after one more parasite treatment the vet hopes that she will be clear for a year until her next injection.

She is still eating like a horse, and complaining that we don't give her enough, and not often enough...but she is certainly a nicely-rounded shape now and her coat is in excellent condition after a bit of summer moulting.

She has settled down to being on her own at night—Nick used to let her sleep in his room, but then his wife wasn't there at the time.  Apart from the odd cry if she is disturbed during the night we don't hear anything until about eight o'clock, when she jumps up on to the chair in the hall, right outside the bedroom door, and starts her early morning alarm call..."Are you in there?  I've been on my own long enough, and I'm starving to death out here!"  Peter gets up to make a cup of tea and she races  to the kitchen to have a couple of mouthfuls of breakfast, and then back to the bedroom for a cuddle, and then back for some more breakfast.  It's a hard life... no wonder she spends so much time sleeping to get over all the activity!

I'm very glad that we heard about her, and that Peter and Bill didn't make too much fuss about having her—they are both to be found stroking her and playing with her on occasions, so they can't be too bothered.