Notes from an Underdog.

Reading Victoria´s recent thread, I think I can safely say I´m not the only one here to be owned by a cat.

September 2016. Somewhat disillusioned with England, I´d spent most of that year in Spain, in a tiny casita on the outskirts of Órgiva, before moving to a rented house high up in the valley of the rio Chico. Casa Regadera (Watering-Can House) stood in the trees, and was an idyllic spot from which to observe the world from a safe distance.
Or so I thought.
Relaxing on the balcony on the first day, watching the sun rise above the eastern rim of the canyon, the silence was suddenly pierced by the sounds of an indignation so emphatic as to freeze the morning´s calm, and stiffen my sinews.
Whatever it was, it was coming up the track.
It soon became apparent that this massive dissatisfaction was bellowing from the tiny frame of a black and white kitten, newly ejected from the car of someone who had at least one feline soul too many.
Finding herself marooned in the Wild Wood, she made unerringly for my balcony, graciously accepted my humble offering of food, then fixed me with a look which made it apparent I´d just signed a contract, and within a couple of days she had taken possession of the house.
A relationship was rapidly established where I feed her belly, and she feeds my soul.
I christened her ¨Diva¨ because nothing was ever quite enough, but her faintest signs of gratitude had me fawning like an eejit.
She always joined me on my early morning expeditions into the garden, perfecting her Fancy Pouncing while I smoked a pipe and gazed across the canyon.
From the first she was capable of extreme verbal abuse, with a repertoire ranging from Karlheinz Stockhausen to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, and I soon learned my place in the Divine Order of Things.
She´s five now, and reads me like a book, while remaining her enigmatic self.
On a sunny morning she likes to come down the garden and share my mood.
Sometimes we sit and think, and sometimes we just sit.

 

I love it, I love it . wonderful story. One problem ... you omitted to include a picture of this wonderful creature Diva!

Oh, how true that is. Cats have owned me for 53 years and my life would be incomplete without them.

 

So I did, she will never forgive me, I hope you might ...

 

... only when I see her countenance here!

 

Forgive me if I don´t interrupt her beauty sleep.

 

Our cat is part of the family.
They all have their own personalities. Obviously some gardeners will grumble if they find jobby in their flower borders. But our boy doesn't often go further than our perimeter and we provide a stink box for his convenience.
It's responsible to have your pet neutered for various reasons, including less risk of them upsetting neighbours and less chance of them getting run over.
The house would seem dead without a good cat

 

She is beautiful and has a little button nose. I like the way she morphs into the duvet.

 

Van and Munch are the same ... and even rush in from the outside to go to their box.

 

I´ll tell her Victoria, she will be pleased.
But you wouldn´t be able to tell.