Monday 18 March 2013
In which Theo goes missing . . .
I didn't sleep well last night. My legs were aching again and my back was definitely feeling more like Richard III's than mine . . . mainly because I had picked up two stout hedgerow sticks on my walk and tried Nordic Walking. It is EXACTLY those muscles (if I stretch my arms out today) that are complaining.
Yesterday afternoon I was back down in what had been mum's flat when she was alive, doing some re-decorating. Theo (now called the Fisher King for reasons I shall shortly share with you) was down there with me, exploring and Having Fun. He came in at one point absolutely shrouded in cobwebs, and I could only assume - with hindsight, later - that he had been in the cupboard. Anyway, at around 4 p.m. I had finished, so I shut the doors down there and came upstairs. Now, with 7 cats in the house you don't always have tabs where they all are at any one point in time. They come and go as they please. However, come bed-time, Theo was not asleep on a chair as he normally is. We did a quick search, opening doors and calling him, but nothing. Not a single chirrup or meow. We went to bed. My legs were aching again and my back complaining too, and I tossed and turned, until the pain made me reach for Paracetamol. I continued to toss and turn, wondering where on earth Theo could be. In the early hours of this morning, an idle thought on Theo covered in cobwebs trotted into my mind. I bet he's in the cupboard down there I thought, but was too warm and by that time un-aching, to go down two floors with a torch and satisfy my curiosity.
So when I got up this morning, I went to check, and there he was, warm and snug as a bug in a rug and wondering why I had shut him in a cupboard for the night?!!!
As for his new title, The Fisher King? Well he has always been fascinated by the fish in the pond and for months has been trying to catch one. A couple of weeks ago, I found he has been successful, as there was a very dead (and flat!) goldfish in his bed. A week ago I didn't find a fish, but there were several strands of Canadian Pondweed on the kitchen floor, which is a bit of a give away - he had been at it again. He is very clever. The nearest we have ever had to a fishing cat was dear old Lucky, who used to flick the tadpoles out onto the patio with her paw : )
The photo at the top shows Himself playing in part of a jug and basin set in the hall. He had his bit of rabbit skin there and had been chasing it around the jug, almost juggling with the latter (which is bulbous at the base) just like someone from the Moscow State Circus. We removed the jug whilst it was still in one piece! Isn't he a character? And SO affectionate - when he comes on my lap, he makes a fuss of me like I am stuffed with cat nip!
Still longing for spring and warmer weather, so here is the lane on the way up to Llyn-y-Fan Fach (you can just see the cleft hills in the distance). Take yourself back over a century and imagine Edward Thomas striding along here, as he did then . . .
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Glad to hear that Theo is safe and well. We had a silver grey tabby who was always having adventures. The current mog is far more chilled. Jx
ReplyDeleteGood to see Theo back safe and sound. Tom Cat goes off on adventures sometimes and it worries us.
ReplyDeleteYou lose track when you've only got three, in my experience! Mine will normally call back when they get stuck in places and I have to go shouting for them. Spcially Barney. He's a right complainer!
ReplyDeleteI adore himself with his bit of fluff! Cats will get comfy if they want to won't they? Can't say I would fancy a raw goldfish but you don;t actually say he ate it. Yes I can imagine Edward Thomas sitting on that Lane - exquisite image.
ReplyDeleteI would love to stride over your lanes. [perhaps 'stride' suggests a livlier step than I can accomplish for long.]
ReplyDeleteThese dear cats do cause us any amount of anxiety--two of our three 'boys' are determined to hunt at the edge of the road which has me frantic when they are out of my sight. Today's torrential rains have proved too much for even their inquisitive natures and they are happily sprawled indoors.
So pleased Theo was safe ....and I can imagine him scooping out his prizes from the pond.
ReplyDeleteOf our 20 felines, only 5 go out, but we have to do a head count at meal time as we have shut ones in wardrobes and once Rusty was shut in the understairs cupboard over night....not that he was bothered ...its where we store the cat food ...needless to say he helped himself to the dry food. The most scarey was when one time our dear Maddy disappeared...it took over 24 hours to find her wedged behind a tall kichen cupboard, as she didn't cry but eventually tried to scratch a little. We then had to dismantle it with care....not sure how she fell down the tiny space.
Glad you found Theo! He looks so comfy curled up in a ball in a bowl. ;-) Enjoying catching up on reading your blog. Hope all is well and you're feeling better.
ReplyDeleteBlessings,
Dianne
www.sweetjourneyhome.com
Oh I do miss having cats. He sounds such a great character. I hope you're feeling less achy today.
ReplyDeleteLove your blog stories--and your photos are wonderful & very educational for me. I have Irish-norman/english roots & if I were richer & younger I would be tramping all over both countrysides. Your prose is a delight!
ReplyDeleteWhat a pretty cat Theo is now. He is obviously living the Life of Riley with you. Private sleeping quarters and his own Royal Fish Pond laid on :-)
ReplyDeleteI had shivers down my spine and could just imagine Edward Thomas striding that Welsh lane when I saw your photograph of the lush, green summer countryside. It has been another long, cold, wet winter.
I love the photo of him in the beautiful basin.
ReplyDeleteHe is a most lovely cat.
cheers, parsnip
Thank you all for your comments, and 12Paws (delightful moniker!) welcome. I'm glad you enjoy the blog.
ReplyDeleteI bless the day I looked out of the window and saw a little tabby person in the paddock - poor chap was more than half way to death's door - he still doesn't know what to do with a dead mouse (which someone else has caught) apart from bat it around the kitchen and lose it in the veg rack! No wonder he was starving to death when he Left Home.