There’s been a development in the Neighbour Cat situation.
First the crap news: our lovely Neighbour moved out two weeks ago. Noooo!
The (temporary) good news: Neighbour is between houses, so was searching for a place for Neighbour Cat to stay a few weeks while a new place is sorted. Long story short – thanks to a chance conversation, Gareth volunteered us for cat sitting duties!
It’s been a bittersweet couple of weeks – all this top quality Neighbour Cat time, but knowing it will be over any day.
Once the cat flap was locked next door, she adapted quickly to the new arrangement. It’s not much different from before, it’s just the naps are longer. She finishes each day snoozed upon either the couch, the office chair, the foot of our bed , or on a folded up pair of Gareth’s tracky dacks (sweatpants). Gotta be the navy ones with the red stripe.
Gareth thinks I’m paranoid but I think she thinks we’re rubbish compared to her Real Owner. I’ll catch her staring plaintively out the window, ears perking up when car tyres crunch in the driveway. Gareth says she’s probably watching a spider (she doesn’t chase birds, only insects) or plotting her next fight with our other neighbour’s cat. But I dunno. Sometimes she has this withering look that’s all, “I see you, and I find you lacking”.
But I’ve more besotted than ever. Withering looks aside, she’s a sweetie and no trouble at all.
I also love the way she eats. “Like a gannet” as her owner warned. I’ve been re-reading Intuitive Eating lately and she’s a champion intuitive eater, clearly never swayed from her natural instincts by glossy magazines or crash diets:
- She’s in tune with her appetite – when she’s hungry she lets you know by a fixed, steely stare and/or by nudging the cat food box to the floor.
- She eats only what she really wants – I made the beginner’s error of buying Kit-E-Kat instead of Whiskas and Her Majesty would have none of it.
- She eats with unconfined joy – at first savouring slowly, then working up to an all-out scoff, chunks spraying out of the bowl in an arc.
- She stops when she’s full – and saunters off, knowing the Inadequate Substitute Humans will tidy up, then plops down on the rug for some elaborate grooming.
I promise you I’m not going to turn into a crazy cat lady around here. I’m more convinced than ever I don’t actually want my own cat, I just like knowing this cranky, fluffy, hilarious one.
I’m going to miss her so, so much.