A New Beginnng

It's now been almost a month since our beloved Cheeky died. It helps that summer is almost on top of us: in the cold, bleak, grey days of winter (and even in Spain the winters are cold, bleak and grey) our misery would have been intensified.

But new life is everywhere at present. Our neighbour's cat is about to present her with a litter of kittens and we will have to be careful not to be seduced into adopting one; Tango and Jaffa are adapting quite happily to a house which does not hold the threat of a sudden attack by a highly territorial Cheeky. Neither would be happy if they had to make room for a new family member regardless of how cute, fluffy, and playful it would be.

Meanwhile Cheeky's mum continues to live under our terrace table out of the back, and Cheeky's dad visits or five times a day for food and affection. I'm happy to indulge him because he reminds me so strongly of Cheeky. However he's a magnet for ticks: almost everyday I find one or two engorged ticks sticking to his neck or his back. There is a sensation of visceral disgust as you grab and pluck a fat tick hanging on by its teeth from an animal's back; however this is counterbalanced by the sense of achievement when you squash the disgusting insect.

So now we have two cats of our own, and two street cats to take care of. As we are off to Palma for a couple of days, we've delegated the task of taking care of our menagerie to our friends, Rod and Anna. They've passed the cat-identification test with flying colours and they'll ensure that the inside cats are allowed inside, and the outside cats stay outside. So we can enjoy two days of holiday without worrying about our cats.

Life After Cheeky

Well, it´s been a few weeks since Cheeky died, yet another of our cats who has fallen victim to Spanish driving. Despite the problems she caused we both miss her more than we can say.

The problems arose because, as soon as she reached one year old, she started flexing her muscles and assumed the role of Alpha Cat in our household. She soon succeeded in driving our other two cats out of the living room - often out of the house - and the only place they felt relatively safe from attack was behind closed doors in each of our bedrooms. If they walked through the lounge, Cheeky would launch an attack like a fuzzy guided missile from ´her´sofa and cow Tango or Jaffa into submission.

Now that Cheeky´s no longer around our remaining two cats are starting to re-colonize the house. Tango´s still, at heart, a street cat, and we often have to go searching for her if we want her to spend the night indoors but she´s slowly losing the hunted look she assumed whenever she entered Cheeky´s territory - i.e. any part of our house or garden. Jaffa has started climbing on to the sofa for the occasional cuddle between trips to the food bowl and excursions to decimate the local squeaking and chirping wildlife.

And theoretically getting cat-sitters should be an easier task: no longer will they have to sit the compulsory cat identification test and learn to maintain a delicate balance through feline apartheid. Now there´s only Tango and Jaffa ... and Tia and Elvis.

Cheeky´s mum was Tia and, unless I´m very mistaken - because he´s the spit of Cheeky - Elvis was the dad. As a slightly bizarre memorial to Cheeky, Tia lives under the table on our rear terrace (she has her own chair and towel) and Elvis is often found in our front garden, where his creaky mieow means ´feed me please´. So we´re now taking care of both of Cheeky´s parents.

God knows what we´ll do when we move house - as we plan to do in the next few years. I can see us returning here once a day to find Tango and feed Tia and Elvis.

So, a bit of a rambling post today. I need to tone up my blogging muscles and focus on writing something acerca de cats on a more regular basis. For now Tango and Jaffa are asleep, safely away from the road and consequently I´m happy.

In Loving Memory

It's been a long time since my last post. The original idea was to chronicle the fun and frustration of domesticating street cats in Spain. Starting with one cat, Tango, She brought two, unexpected kittens into our lives: Jaffa and Minnie.

Sadly, last August, Minnie came staggering into our kitchen and collapsed. She'd been hit by one of the cars which drives far too quickly down our supposedly quiet road. We rushed her to the vets, but she didn't survive an operation to try and mend her.

We felt as if the stuffing had been knocked out of us, and the idea of continuing to blog about our cats was thrown out of the window.

Just before Minnie died we'd been adopted by another kitten: Cheeky came into our lives after we started feeding the three-quarter's starved offspring of Tia, the local matriarch. We had Cheeky - a female - sterilised and while she was recuperating in our house she made the decision to stay.

Two weeks ago Cheeky disappeared. She'd disappeared once before, for five days, when she'd received a glancing blow from a car. She'd gone to ground to recover. When she disappeared this time we were worried but kept hoping she'd turn up eventually, with another of her nine lives gone.

One of our neighbours found her body a week ago. She'd obviously been dead a long time. Our hearts were broken, especially as it seemed as if she'd fallen victim to a driver again.

So we've lost two of our sweet cats in eight months. This on what should be a quiet road. There's a kids' playground across the road and we don't live on a main road, so I'm cursing all car drivers who carelessly whizz past our house.

In another blog I'll tell you about why she was such a lovely cat and why 'Cheeky' was such an apt name if I can bear to do so. At present I still feel very raw, as any pet owner who's lost a beloved animal in such an arbitrary way will understand.

Bye bye Cheeky, you were a lovely cat.