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.