As many of you know, my family used to have 2 gorgeous cats called Rupert and Rosey who were larger than life characters. I adored having cats around, but unfortunately where I live now, we are not allowed any! The landlady has a huge dog who is so sweet and gentle, but she roams freely in the grounds and turns wicked when faced with felines apparently. So cats are not allowed. The pussycats had incredibly strong personalities. Rosey was an utter flirt, would shout and chatter to everyone and loved having men in the room. She loved rough play and there were many occasions where guests would look on in sheer horror as we pummeled her ribcage like a masseuse, whilst she dribbled and purred in appreciation. Rupert was a complete lap cat and had a bad habit of biting noses when he was younger. A pure ginger tiger with huuuuge padding paws, this was one mog who craved cuddles, food and plastic bags or wrapping paper to rustle around in. On so many occasions I half expect 2 furry friends to bound over to me as I come down the drive to visit my parents. I don’t think you ever get over losing pets you have known for so long.
I finally decided to get some fish as I have a little fish tank with 4 Minnows in it at work and love them to pieces (Churchill, Liz, Rommel and Miller). I bought a fish tank and added Dame, Vera and Lynn who didn’t seem to appreciate our efforts to keep them alive and happy at all. We decided to start again with 4 smaller Minnows – Dame II, Vera II, Lynn II and Glenn who have been living happily in their tank for 2 weeks. We decided to change 10% of the water so popped the top off and skimmed the top of the tank on Saturday. Sunday I was getting concerned as Glenn seemed to be missing in action and would not normally hide himself in the cave-like barracks at the back of the tank. After a lot of searching we discovered he seemed to have vacated the tank and neither of us could figure out how as we know we had not taken him out whilst changing the water. Late yesterday evening we discovered the mystery of Glenn Miller’s disappearance. Upon taking the top off of the tank and starting the cleaning process, the fish sometimes get a little over-excited and flick their tails at the surface. It seems that Glenn, in a moment of territorial vigour, had hurled himself out of the water. Inconveniently for him, he landed by the china cabinet instead of back into the tank and we found his body last night whilst watching King Kong. Twasn’t beauty that killed the beast it was stupidity. Poor Glenn.
To be honest, the girls seem relieved about his removal. Having regained the stage, they seem more full of life and colour as they swim around their submerged battle tank. One came to the glass and I am sure I saw her mouth ‘We’re back ladies!’
I came into the office this morning (I am a creative writer in the week at a gift company) and my work friend Becky had gained herself some chickens over the weekend. She discovered when they were dropped off that they were in fact a chicken and 2 cocks, so it looks like she will have eggs flying around like ping pong balls at a Thai lap dancing club. Im looking forward to the prospect of fresh poached eggs on the odd morning!
There is something very therapeutic about having pets, something to look after like a child, take your mind off of life’s problems. One of these days we will buy a place and get 2 kitty-cats, but until then Glenn (R.I.P), Miller, Dame II, Vera II, Lynn II, Liz, Rommel and Churchill are an absolute pleasure.