Marching onwards: 02/01/2005

Fanfare please!

And here it is:

http://dmouse.typepad.com/marching_on/

Older than me!

Happy Birthday, dear Baron!

He has attained the grand old age of 28 today. And he is not too happy about that!

Stock-take

I am back on a diet. A proper diet. With exercise. I will lose this excess weight and keep it off.

I have booked Lila's puppy training classes. She isn't allowed out for another three and a half weeks but as soon as she has the all clear, her bottom is going to training and agility. In the meantime, we will continue as we are. Lots of training and games and marching round the garden on lead.

I will get a new lead for my amp and get back to playing my bass again. It is not that much fun without an amp.

The Baron will turn his socks out or he will have no clean socks.

I will finish my photo album of the Harvey Cat. I have picked the pictures, I just need some printer ink to print them.

I will get on with writing my book.

I will decide whether to stay at Blogger or move to Typepad. It's free here, but I like the features there, especially the referral stats.

I will get my hair cut.

Older and wiser?

I'm 27 now. Crap.

Things to be pleased about:

I live with my best friend and partner.
I have seven great pets.
I'm qualified (at last!).
I own my own house.
My family are reasonably normal.

Things that aren't so great/need work:

I miss my Harvey Cat.
I am three years away from thirty.
I wanted to have finished having children by thirty. I think aiming to have at least commenced trying by thirty is the best I can manage.
Getting the Baron to turn his socks the right way out.
Stopping Lila sneaking upstairs to piss on the carpet.

Charlie's adoptaversary

We've had Charlie one whole year.

In that time, he has gone from being a scared and vicious beast to a love bunny who wants to be held all the time. From permanently pissed off, to laid back and mellow. It is an amazing change.

Charlie's previous "owners" moved and left him behind. He lived on the streets for three months and was periodically fed by neighbours (when they could find him). During his street days he was kicked and beaten. By the time he reached the shelter he was almost impossible to handle. He bit all of the staff, and was days away from being put to sleep after a month long stay.

We were out in the vicinity and decided to have a look. I accidently turned onto the motorway instead of carrying on round the roundabout. But for some reason, I really wanted to go. I went to the next junction, turned around and came back.

There he was. A huge lump under the blankets in a cage, with a big notice asking people not to touch the cage. In blatent disregard, I tapped the cage to see who was in there. All I saw were the most beautiful amber eyes staring balefully out from the blanket. Pleading to get out of that cage.

I was not allowed to go in and see how he reacted to me - the staff refused to handle him. I looked at the Baron, and he just nodded. We took a huge chance, and said we would just take him.

He used to bite, hiss, scratch and growl at anything that moved, and a lot of things that didn't. He hid under the bed, and fought with the others (originally Harvey, Frankie and Ellie).

He hated me. He adored the Baron though and used to sit on his lap and hiss at me. Then one day, he sat on my lap. I rubbed his cheeks, he bit me but stayed sitting, and from then on, he has been my cat.

At this moment in time, he is stretched out upside down on my bed, in contact with not just Frankie, but Ozzy as well. He hasn't batted a paw at Oz once, and he is quite happy to share the bed with him. He tolerates Lila. Just.

He loves to have his head and face rubbed. In the last few weeks he has actively sought out belly rubs at night. He loves to lie on me when I am in bed, paws resting on my chin and whiskers tickling my face.

Happy Adoptaversary, Charlie. I hope we have many many more years together.

Biscuits

Never leave a small boy alone with biscuits. Ever. You would think that I knew that, but it slipped my mind.

The Boy was in the mood for biscuits. Not dancin'. Or romancin', even though it is Valentine's Day and he sent a card to his girlfriend.

So into the biscuit tin he went. Except he didn't fancy the whole biscuit. No, he wanted the cream in the middle. It is the best bit, after all.

The Boy selected his biscuit, broke it open, licked the cream off, and put the "clean" biscuits back in the tin.

Five times. Ten licked biscuits.

He confessed later that day, when it was noted that there were a lot of broken biscuit pieces in the tin.

The dog enjoyed his afternoon tea.

Lila

Dawg.

Naughty dawg. Just snuck upstairs and pissed on the floor.

Lila

Ozzy

The new one.

Handsome boy or what?!

He is very affectionate and very noisy. Likes to eat a lot too.

Ozzy

Ellie

This is proof positive that Ellie is possessed by something.

Ellie

Willow

Unusually, Willow is in her bed and not on the stuffed rottweiler. This is how she spends her days when she is not eating.

Very quiet girl, phased by little. Lila just paid a visit and Willow didn't bother to move.

Willow

Charlie

Still a little on the tubby side, my Charlie cat.

He is a little put out by the new arrival, being possibly the most possessive cat in the world. But he will survive and learn to share.

This was taken a minute or so ago. Charlie has taken to rolling around the floor when he wants attention. I like it more than Hollie's method of beating the crap out of me.

Charlie

Hollie

Hollie is still a little camera shy. However, she is a vicious thug who will beat up anything that gets in her personal space.

Or anyone who doesn't give in to her incessant demands for attention. For an old lady, she is tough. At this moment, she is standing in front of the monitor crying and bopping my hands.

When I get old, I want to be like Hollie.

Hollie

Frankie

Frankie, as of two minutes ago.

He is laying in the hall upstairs keeping watch.

Frankie

Loose ends

OK.

River Cottage is a TV show. Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall upped sticks and went to live in the country. He grew all his veg, raised livestock and basically lived as a true smallholder. Great TV, and very inspirational for those into that kind of thing.

Ozzy is here and there will be pictures soon. For some bizarre reason all the cats are accepting him and he is currently stationed on my bed with the others. Frankie has already groomed him, which is pretty damn amazing. He is a sweet boy, and I am sure that Harvey had a paw in me finding him.

There will also be pictures of our new water feature soon, but the garden is in a mess because we had to remove a tree today. As you do. So when it is respectable, you will see the shrine to Star Wars.

I may have planted all those seeds, but Miss GreenFingers I am not. Most things I grow die, and I am not holding out much hope for the veg. However, the Baron is in charge of all plant stock as of now, under the supervision of my parents (Veg Growers Extraordinaire) and so hopefully we will actually get some veg out of all this.

Our garden isn't huge by any means (our garden is smaller than a double garage) but with a combination of raised beds, hanging baskets and lots of containers we are able to grow an awful lot. I also have some sunflowers to plant, and those will probably go out the front, near Harvey's grave.

The weather has been pretty mild - we have had daffodils already and a couple of trees have gone into bloom. It is great that we are able to start now, and we are really excited! I checked the seeds I planted during the week and my broccoli is looking good.

So other than the general election, this will be a good spring!

Cheery

This post will be cheery. I've been miserable for too long.

Well, I am still miserable, but if I think cheery thoughts, maybe I will become cheery.

So without further ado, I bring you.....the cheeriness.

1. My birthday present arrived from my parents today. A little early, but 9 whole hours of River Cottage is just what a miserable Mouse needs. That and brownies, and they are in the oven.

2. My cycle has returned to normal. At last.

3. Our newest addition, Ozzy, will be coming home on Saturday. He has had a lot of teeth removed, and is recovering nicely from surgery.

4. Lila is doing well, and is biting a little less. The Boy's class have requested I take her in one afternoon so they can all see her, and I'll take any opportunity to educate kids about good animal care!

5. I have planted all my seeds for a bumper crop. We have:

carrots;
potatoes (pink fir apple and maris piper);
broccoli;
cabbage;
cucumber;
lettuce;
garlic;
onions;
spring onions;
peas;
french beans;
runner beans;
tomatoes (two kinds);
peppers;
leeks;
courgettes;
artichokes;
strawberries;
gooseberries;
raspberries;
chives;
chillies; and
a million different herbs.

My orange and lemon trees are doing better now that Charlie has stopped using them as a temporary litter tray. The olives are good too.

6. I have sorted out some easy work for next week. It is half term for the Boy, Valentine's day (14th), Charlie's adoptaversary (15th), my birthday (16th), and the Baron's birthday (18th). So I need an easy week!

7. We only have one more extortionate council tax bill to pay (they forgot to charge us for the first three months we lived here, so we have been paying double to catch up) and one more career development loan payment to make. Then we shall have some more money. Nice!

8. We now have a Boba Fett water feature along side Dart Vader. The fish seem unimpressed.

I think that is enough cheeriness for one evening. I wouldn't want to overdo it!

Bloody subconscious

I had a horrible dream last night.

I dreamt that the Baron had only a few hours to live after being poisoned (and no, I hadn't been watching the Simpsons!). He was paralysed on our bed, and for some reason I was sent to Australia that day. As you are.

He just stayed in that limbo state, waiting to die, and I stayed with him (when I returned from Australia a few hours later - great transport!). Just waiting.

It was horrible. I just sat and held his hand, whilst crying.

The legacy of that dream has stayed with me all day. Everything feels a little off kilter, out of focus.

Has it only been....

...two days since I last posted? It feels much longer.

I will post some dawg pictures soon........I really will. Lila is simply gorgeous (if a little on the bitey side) and is growing like a weed. Or is it a wild flower?

In the meantime, we have been busy with socialising the young Miss. She is very taken with her uncle, and he with her. Very cute to watch a huge dog playing so gently with a puppy, even when that puppy takes incredible liberties. She clambers all over his huge head and he gums her. She steals his food. He sniffs her girly bits.

In cat news, Willow has taken to sleeping on the stuffed rottweiler upstairs. All the time. I'm not sure whether she actually gets up more than twice a day, which would conveniently coincide with feeding time. She just loves that rottweiler, and likes to be stroked whilst wrapped around its head. Hopefully this bodes well for her long-term relationship with the dawg.

Ellie appears to be possessed by Harvey. This is very strange, but she has picked up every one of his annoying habits with gusto. She likes to stand on the balcony and howl. She knocks things over when she doesn't get her own way. She bosses everyone around, and this has only happened in the last two weeks. It is nice to feel that he lives on here with us all, but luckily Ellie has kept all of her own sweet habits (and her less sweet ones, like trying to stick her arse in my face).

Charlie and Frankie are the same as ever. Laid back and lazy. My wonderful loving boys. They are always together now, and my fear of Frankie's face remaining forever unwashed has blown away after watching Charlie tenderly cleaning Frankie's face.

Hollie is brave. She still spends a little time under the bed, but mostly she she sleeps in the bathroom or on my pillow. She will corner Lila and whop her across the face before running. She still whops me in the face if I don't wake up at night and fuss her. She has a very loving heart, but a nervous body.

A cage in the local RSPCA centre may well be empty in the near future. A pure white boy with black splodges and a thirst for love and affection is awaiting the results of his blood tests. He is not a replacement for Harvey, but he reminds me of him in a very good way. Like the way I found Charlie, something led me there to find him.

In people news, the Baron is still off work with stress. At the moment, he is fart arsing around the garden and digging up the beds. He seems quite content and we will have an amazing vegetable garden come spring, thanks to his hard work.

Me?

Good days and bad days. The weekend, and last night were bad.

Today is a little better. But even now, as I sit here and look out over the gardens and fields, part of me expects a little white and tabby face to appear from behind the fence and come running in to me (Harvey would shimmy up the conservatory to come in at the window, miaowing and purring at the same time). And it hurts everytime I remember that he will never do that again.

The death of a cat is insignificant in the grand scheme of things. People say

"it was only a cat"
"these things happen"
"enjoy your other cats"
"you can always get another"
"its been two weeks, get over it"

but to me, this is a very real and painful loss. I loved that cat so damn much.

I do love all of my cats very much, and we are adopting another cat, but this doesn't in anyway stop the pain of knowing that my beloved, my first, my special cat is no more. It might have been two weeks, but that has just been two weeks in the rest of my lifetime that I will live without my HarveyCat.

It is hard.

Pooped

Lila spent the afternoon with her Uncle Sam.

She is fast asleep downstairs, Sam is in his basket at home, the Baron is dozing on the sofa and I am falling asleep over this report I am trying to write.

Pictures tomorrow....just think huge arse boy rottweiler and little fuzzball girl rottweiler and vast quantities of drool.

The water

Something odd is going on with the water. Everywhere but here, that is.

Vast numbers of women are succumbing. Virtually every woman I met today was pregnant (and the men I met had wives who were all expecting). It appears that the women of the forums I visit are falling pregnant at the click of a mouse.

Not here. My cycle is officially fucked.

I chart, but I have no idea what is going on. Harvey's death (I tear up just writing that) has left my cycle in limbo.

And yet, abortion is the main topic of the day in blogs I visit and forums I frequent.

Some feel that life begins at conception. Some do not. Some feel that that life must be protected at all costs - that a woman must sacrifice her body for nine months to bring forth life. Some feel that there are no good reasons to abort. Some feel that there are.

People have the right to believe whatever the hell they want. And to express those beliefs.

They do not have the right to hurt others. People like Holly, who uses Cecily's tragedy to further her own cause, regardless of how much pain that might cause. People like Holly, who hijack good and decent debates to attack.

I know where I stand on the issue. But I am not going to force my beliefs on to anyone, and insist that my way is the right way. It might be for me. It might not be for you.

Some might do well to consider that.

Irony

We moved here because we thought it was safer for the cats.

Not so. For obvious reasons.

Before he was killed, Harvey used to fight with a local cat. Pretty little girl - all black with white feet. Both wanted to rule the neighbourhood.

Guess who we found today?

Harvey's nemesis. Killed on the same stretch of road.

What are the odds?

I bet they are still fighting now.

Upstairs, downstairs

Lila has a tendency to wander upstairs.

We'd prefer her not to, just so as the cats can have a safe santuary upstairs. Lila wants to be with them, but they don't always share that feeling. Sometimes, but not always.

So we got a baby gate for the stairs. I spent a good few minutes putting it up securely.

I turned around to go up the stairs and she was already at the top of them.

Maybe she was on the stairs before I closed it? I'm sure I had left her on the other side..........So I took her back down, firmly shut the gate again (with her on the other side) and went on my way.

Ten seconds later Little Missy was upstairs.

It turns out that she can squeeze through the bars. I've caught her playing with Ellie, barking at Willow (who doesn't mind but just talks back) and looking for the others. She knows their hiding places already.

She also likes to chew the Baron's socks under the watchful eye of a wise looking Orange Cat.

What she doesn't know is that her head is still growing. So in a week or so, the upstairs world will be but a dream to her.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

Marching onwards

Sunday, February 20, 2005

Fanfare please!

Friday, February 18, 2005

Older than me!

Thursday, February 17, 2005

Stock-take

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Older and wiser?

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Charlie's adoptaversary

Monday, February 14, 2005

Biscuits

Sunday, February 13, 2005

Lila

Ozzy

Ellie

Willow

Charlie

Hollie

Frankie

Saturday, February 12, 2005

Loose ends

Thursday, February 10, 2005

Cheery

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

Bloody subconscious

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Has it only been....

Sunday, February 06, 2005

Pooped

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

The water

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

Irony

Upstairs, downstairs

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