My Own Personal Minions

I decided yesterday that I would write you all a delightful post about the strange creatures with whom I share my life. And I don’t mean my family or my boyfriend… Though, a deep analysis into Master Berserker followed by an anatomical dissection could prove amusing…

I’ll stop with the sadistic thoughts of things I’d like to do to my younger brother and, instead, move on to introducing my feline and canine friends.

And, of course, we should start with the oldest first…


Salem

Salem is about ten years old now. Fortunately, he preens a lot so it’s not showing just yet. His arrogance has always been of supreme importance to him. He’s also very… I’d like to say protective, but to be honest it is just jealousy. He’s a very jealous cat. He does not like my friends and usually abhors boyfriends (R has been lucky).

His favourite thing to do is to get in the way when I am typing and then to find pieces of ribbon or string-like things connected to other things on my desk… and then pull them. He was doing this just a moment ago, but has become bored and decided to squeeze himself behind my blind to sit on the window sill.

One of his strange quirks is inevitably to do with his preening. He likes to shell the dead pieces off his claws, but he only does this when I’m biting my nails.

And he would like you all to know that you are all beneath him… and must rub his belly to gain any seating space in my room.

 

Poppy

Poppy is much younger than Salem by quite a few years. In fact, I think she may be about five.

She’s a tabby and very headstrong. We got her from a farm where she was mostly handled by the male farmhands. Of course, this means she prefers male (human) company to female. Whenever anybody male comes into the house, she promptly designates his lap as her new bed for at least an hour. If you manage to get rid of her before that then I commend you.

She’s not to be trifled with. Her food is fussy. She must have fishy foods and no other meat. If the cat food is non-fish then she will only eat her dry mix until her taste for fish is satisfied. And what does she say to prawns? Well… She’s very partial to them.

The above picture is one of an old dressing gown. She’s not attached to this dressing gown. She’s attached to being hidden in things. Most notably, she likes being hidden in drawers and we once lost her in one for twenty-four hours. That might sound cruel… but the truth is she slept in there for twenty-four hours without meowing or making a noise.

Put her under a blanket. She’ll love you for it.

 

Baby

Baby is a gender confused, mother hen of a cat. And he’s a boy…

My mother named him because she wanted a cat called Baby. He also goes by Boo, Baby Boo and Mr Bubbles. He will meow and have a conversation with you. In fact, he’s easier to train than a dog. You tell him to jump and he will. You ask him a question and he replies.

He also doesn’t mind when I make him play peek-a-boo or pretend that he’s playing a piano…

His favourite thing to eat is cat mint. However, he will dig it up and also consume the roots just to make sure that it most definitely all gone.

And here he is having a hug off his half-brother…

Awww. He’s sweet, right?

Tell that to the next mouse, sparrow, rabbit or racing pigeon he happens across. My apologies to the owner of the racing pigeon. I don’t know who you are, but we found your pigeon dropped just by the entrance to the cat flap one morning. Sorry.

 

Smokey

Yes, that top picture is one of a cat enjoying a box a little too much…

Smokey must be my second most photographed cat because he gets up to some strange things. There is also the fact that he rarely goes further than five feet from the house. This is probably because he’s not exactly greatly there.

I love him to bits, but my mum did rescue him. To put it this way, my mum works with some characters who are not totally great and some of these people were Smokey’s original owners. They thought it was funny to let their Staffordshire Bull Terrier pull this little grey kitten around by the neck like a play toy. My mum didn’t. So she turned up and demanded the cat.

His expressions range through different stages of confusion and adoration. He doesn’t see so well because the nerve endings in his neck are slightly damaged. He walks in a way that could be described as almost waddling and one eye seems to focus a tiny bit more than the other. But he tries.

Besides… Who needs to leave the house when you can sleep inside all day and follow people from room to room?

Oh. And sit in the bathroom when they want to use the toilet in privacy…

 

Smudge

Smudgie is my most photographed cat. And instead of telling you why, I’ll just show you.

 

Casper & Lennon

Now, if you’re sick of cats… Try Westies!

They’re much bigger than that now, but I think this picture says a lot about them. Casper is in the foreground sunning himself while Lennon watches and slowly nods off in the doorway. He’s still reluctant to come outside in certain weathers.

Lennon is very much a fuss pot. He loves to be cuddled and kissed and snuggle up to you when you’re sat down. Casper is very grumpy. Some days he has terrible mood swings. He hates seagulls with a passion. He likes to get up on the coffee table and nosey in everything on there before pinching toffees. He also likes oranges.

In fact, their favourite game is to steal vegetables from the vegetable rack and either chew them or play catch between them. Though Casper has recently discovered the leftover cardboard tubes from toilet rolls. Apparently, these are great toys. Even better than onions!

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