News1 min ago
calling all cat lovers
57 Answers
ive seen many a post where your cats get a mention, has anyone got some tales to tell about their fur babies, funny, sad,past cats and present cats i would love to hear. Presently cupar my black and white cat is sitting watching me type, margo, a ginger girl is vegetatting on the back of her chair snoring really loudly.
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I had another little one called Matilda but she died after only a few days (she was 8weeks) as she had meningitis, poor ilttle thing. It broke my heart as she kept having these seizures and was going potty with them it was hurting her so bad, we had to have her put to sleep in the end, it was awful cos she was so little, bless her heart.
Natalie, Jez sounds just like my cat, looks wise (even down to the little white blob on her black face) and personality too. She follows me everywhere, including the loo and I am often woken up with a paw in my mouth or eye and her sitting on my chest purring like mad. She is incredibly clumsy though, knocking down everything in her wake and falling off shelves, tables etc. I love her to bits. She's an only cat now - a rare occurence in our household!!
How's baby Emilia (Is that the right spelling?) and what do the cats think of her?
How's baby Emilia (Is that the right spelling?) and what do the cats think of her?
She's fine thanks Lottie (yep, you spelled it right!) - she's got prickly heat though so has been a bit grumpy today but is asleep now though so I am making the most of it!
Diego doesn't really know what to make of her, but as we barely see him anyway it doesn't seem to bother him; he comes home to eat and then sleeps in whichever room we are not! Unsociable get! Raff sits and watches her, like he doesn't know what to make of her and Jez seems frightened, but then she is pretty daft and scared of most things. She also drinks anything I am drinking, I can't put a drink down anywhere because before long you can hear her lapping at it!
Diego doesn't really know what to make of her, but as we barely see him anyway it doesn't seem to bother him; he comes home to eat and then sleeps in whichever room we are not! Unsociable get! Raff sits and watches her, like he doesn't know what to make of her and Jez seems frightened, but then she is pretty daft and scared of most things. She also drinks anything I am drinking, I can't put a drink down anywhere because before long you can hear her lapping at it!
Weird Natalie, that's just what my cat does. I have to hide my drink from her all the time. Sometimes I cover it with a lid, but she just knocks the lid off and drinks it. Mind you she also drinks out of the flower vases - but won't drink out of her water dish. How strange, do you think they are long lost relatives?
My cat is black with white front, socks and white whiskers and a small white blob just above her lip (below her nostril). She also has quite big ears, and a surprised look on her face most of the time?
My cat is black with white front, socks and white whiskers and a small white blob just above her lip (below her nostril). She also has quite big ears, and a surprised look on her face most of the time?
hey i think cupars got family out there, hes black with white bits and a little white moustashe and white tippy toes,hes just come back inthru the cat flap with a little annoucement to let me know hes home. Cupar came from a rescue centre in cupar, fife, hence the name. right im off to stake my claim on the bed before cupar gets there, their dad is away so we are all spreading ourselves across the bed.
When I was a kid we used to have a lovely Siamese.
It was in the days of tucked in sheetsand blankets, before duvets.
She used to prise up the bedclothes with her nose, go down to my feet and come back up again. She would stick just the tip of her nose out next to my face. A gentle purr would start and get louder until I woke up. How could I be cross?
No cat since has wanted to get into the bed. Our current one sleeps on the duvet, draped over my feet, or nibbles the hair and earlobes of 'er indoors.
It was in the days of tucked in sheetsand blankets, before duvets.
She used to prise up the bedclothes with her nose, go down to my feet and come back up again. She would stick just the tip of her nose out next to my face. A gentle purr would start and get louder until I woke up. How could I be cross?
No cat since has wanted to get into the bed. Our current one sleeps on the duvet, draped over my feet, or nibbles the hair and earlobes of 'er indoors.
...and then there was Henry, my daughter's cat some years back. A charming handsome fellow, but a few bricks short of a load.
You had to be careful where you left your glass of milk, or before you knew it he'd be dipping his paw in. He was very keen on rooftop walks and naps, and this was nearly his undoing.
We were all out in the garden one fine summer day, when suddenly the air was rent by what sounded like nails being scratched down a blackboard. Looking up, to the top of the steeply pitched 3 storey house, we saw Henry, flat against the slates, front legs outstretched, slowly but surely sliding backwards towards the guttering.
Would he stop? Would he go over the edge? Could anyone get there in time to catch him? The tension was unbearable, but there was more to come.
He did slide over the gutter, but managed to get a paw onto it, and was left swinging by his claws for what seemed an eternity. By this time I was in a position to try and catch him as he fell, as he surely soon would.
But when he lost his grip, he somehow managed to swing inwards, landing on a first floor window sill. From there it was a daring leap to another window sill at right angles to the first one, and the a slide down an adjacent pipe.
For some reason he was never as keen on rooftops afterwards.
You had to be careful where you left your glass of milk, or before you knew it he'd be dipping his paw in. He was very keen on rooftop walks and naps, and this was nearly his undoing.
We were all out in the garden one fine summer day, when suddenly the air was rent by what sounded like nails being scratched down a blackboard. Looking up, to the top of the steeply pitched 3 storey house, we saw Henry, flat against the slates, front legs outstretched, slowly but surely sliding backwards towards the guttering.
Would he stop? Would he go over the edge? Could anyone get there in time to catch him? The tension was unbearable, but there was more to come.
He did slide over the gutter, but managed to get a paw onto it, and was left swinging by his claws for what seemed an eternity. By this time I was in a position to try and catch him as he fell, as he surely soon would.
But when he lost his grip, he somehow managed to swing inwards, landing on a first floor window sill. From there it was a daring leap to another window sill at right angles to the first one, and the a slide down an adjacent pipe.
For some reason he was never as keen on rooftops afterwards.
I looked after a stray cat that was frightened of birds! She would cower in the coal bunker, watching the birds eat her food.
My hubby converted our unused coal bunker into a little home for her, and she lived happily there for several years. Sadly, I had to take her to be put to sleep in December last year. She was the most lovely, gentle natured cat you could find.
Rest in peace puss-puss.
xxx
My hubby converted our unused coal bunker into a little home for her, and she lived happily there for several years. Sadly, I had to take her to be put to sleep in December last year. She was the most lovely, gentle natured cat you could find.
Rest in peace puss-puss.
xxx
yes ive seen nora, shes got a whole web site dedicated to her. thank you again to all the new posters and old,the stories are really jogging old memories for me. sam who camps out in my mums porch has several beds which he chops and changes as the mood takes him. he has two on top of an old coal bunker, my folding garden chair, an old bit of carpet on the ground and now his summer bed, a donut on the ground next to his exit hole from the porch so he can sit and watch the birds go by, not that ive seen him show any interest in the birds.xxxx
Reading panic button's post reminds me of Dylan my lovely soft baby who died due to an accident. He used to love water and getting wet but one of his favourite tricks was going out in the rain then getting into bed with me. I would wake up to find this wet, smelly, purring lump in bed next to me. He was a gorgeous, handsome boy and I do miss him still.
I laughed at 4candles' story - I can imagine the scene!
I laughed at 4candles' story - I can imagine the scene!
When i was about 13 I could hear a cat meowing in my bedroom so i rushed into my parents room to tell them, annoying for them as it was around 3am.
My Dad said it was one he brought home that night as he took our dog for a walk. It turned out that the cat, who was only a few months old, was being attacked by another dog and ours did the canine heroic thing and saved him.
It was a ginger tom and got an awful purr so i called it Rusty and it always slept under my bed covers from that night.
As i grew up and started work Rusty used to follow me and wait for me to finish and if i went up to the local rugger club for a few beers he would wait outside for me til it was time to go home. If our dog was taken for a walk Rusty would follow, it seemed that the two were inseperable, and indeed they were.
Sadly around 6 years later Rusty was killled by a passing car and was sadly missed by us but what really upset the family was Symba our dog. He had to be put on tranquillisers by the Vet to calm his nerves after Rustys death. I should mention that Symba was a German Shepherd crossed with a Golden Retriever - big and Lion looking hence the name and a fantastic guard dog.
My Dad said it was one he brought home that night as he took our dog for a walk. It turned out that the cat, who was only a few months old, was being attacked by another dog and ours did the canine heroic thing and saved him.
It was a ginger tom and got an awful purr so i called it Rusty and it always slept under my bed covers from that night.
As i grew up and started work Rusty used to follow me and wait for me to finish and if i went up to the local rugger club for a few beers he would wait outside for me til it was time to go home. If our dog was taken for a walk Rusty would follow, it seemed that the two were inseperable, and indeed they were.
Sadly around 6 years later Rusty was killled by a passing car and was sadly missed by us but what really upset the family was Symba our dog. He had to be put on tranquillisers by the Vet to calm his nerves after Rustys death. I should mention that Symba was a German Shepherd crossed with a Golden Retriever - big and Lion looking hence the name and a fantastic guard dog.
I've read every single post on this thread, and what lovely stories!! I got my first cat for my 11th birthday - my parents bought her for me from the local pet shop for 2/6 (for those of you too young to know, that's 12 & a half pence today!). She was all black and far too young to be away from her mum. We called her Lucky (original!!?) and she lived to 19 yrs old. I'd never seen my Dad cry until that little cat died - she used to wait for him to come home from work every evening, sitting on the fence at the end of our road till his bus turned up and Dad got off, then she'd run ahead to our house and sit in the porch waiting for him.
When I left home to get married (the first time, not to the lovely Mr K!) I left Lucky with my parents, as she was too old to come with me and my first husband was allergic to cats. We were only married for 4 years and the first thing I did when I was single again was to go to the RSPCA and get 2 kittens, Cleo and Monty. Sadly, Monty got meningitis when he was about 4 months old and had to be put to sleep, but Cleo was with me till she was 17.
When I left home to get married (the first time, not to the lovely Mr K!) I left Lucky with my parents, as she was too old to come with me and my first husband was allergic to cats. We were only married for 4 years and the first thing I did when I was single again was to go to the RSPCA and get 2 kittens, Cleo and Monty. Sadly, Monty got meningitis when he was about 4 months old and had to be put to sleep, but Cleo was with me till she was 17.
When I met Mr K, I had Cleo and a lovely GSD (also a stray) called Zak. He adored Cleo, but she only ever tolerated him. When she died (peacefully, at home one morning), Zak was devastated and so was Mr K. I wanted time to mourn her, as she'd been with me for so long and had been my friend when both my parents died and when I was on my own, but my hubby was so upset that I went to the RSPCA again and found 2 little kittens. They were only 5 weeks old and not ready to be re-homed, so I phoned every day to check when they would be ready. I was told that I could go and get them on Valentine's day, which was a Saturday that year. Mr K was on earlies (he was a police officer) and so K Jnr and I also got up at some unearthly hour, packed a thermos flask and some chocolate and arrived at the RSPCA sanctuary at 6 in the morning (it was freezing!!). Good thing we did, as they only had 5 kittens there and it was first come, first served. We were the first there and managed to get the two I'd fallen in love with. When we got them home, Zak went all soppy over them and the 3 of them remained friends until the old dog passed away, aged 15. I've still got the girls (sisters), Andromeda (Romy) and Cassiopaeia (Cassie), they're nearly 11 now.
my patch used to wait for me to come home from senior school,mum swore he knew the time id be walking up the road and he'd be there waiting at the gate. shaking you've reminded me of a distant relation who had dogs and cats, giza and toffee two siamese, baros whose breed i cant remember but he was long haired and very beautiful, and then there was panda and his son pole-pole(which means something in an african language) who were jack russells. they all loved being groomed and would line up to be groomed,it was like being at a hairdressers...next customer please..:-)))
