The Ginger Yo-yo is in full rebound – Thug (The
Purring Death) is visiting us with the sort of determined persistence
that defies belief. Just at present, he drops by at least every two
or three days and we now have a morning routine where I open the back
door, look out and then report to my partner whether or not it's a
‘Thug Day’.
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| I'll just have two fingers |
As I have mentioned before, Thug is adoring and adorable, and if that were the whole story he would be welcome to
stay as long as he wants. However, what really happens is that he
turns up, tells us what a poor, deprived moggy he is, tries to cadge
breakfast, demands extensive attention and then terrorises the other
cats.
We have recently had Ginge refuse to come near the house
for several weeks after a bad encounter by the back door, and just
yesterday Oatmeal got rolled in the mud. Piper knows better - first
hint of Thug and he takes cover. Even if he mistakes Ginge for Thug
– it’s better to be embarrassed (again) rather than bitten on the
arse (again).
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| Fast Food - some meal options are slow enough to catch (Piper, after a recent encounter and trip to the vet) |
So, Thug turns up and menaces the other cats; in return,
I drive him home. You would think that sort of rejection (with small
meal option, because a tiny amount of bait is needed) would put him
off, but a day or two later he’s back again. Sometimes sooner.
Much sooner. The highlight of the sequence has to be a night-time
visit, around ten, when I drove him back down the hill. The
following morning, he was hanging around by the back door, looking
for breakfast – very wisely, all possible meal options were keeping
their ears down elsewhere. So, I drove him home... and then, that
evening, I drove him home again.
That is the big and consistent theme with Thug visits –
again. So much again that it ought to be in capitals
and tattooed on his whiskers.
Thug has got into a habit of visiting, a persistent
habit that refuses to die. From chatting with his owners we have
even identified one occasion when he dropped by in the evening,
dodged being picked up and driven home, then walked home anyway for a
meal, and then walked back to be with us the following morning. If
Thug took up smoking, there would be a towering snow-drift of
cigarette butts with a contented ginger cat snoozing on top.
His visits are such frequent events now that he has
grown accustomed to the taxi-ride and will follow me all the way
round the house and down to our van. We no longer have the frantic
struggle, or the sudden mad dash, none of the usual panic of the
pet-cage response. Being bundled up and driven home is just a
part of the routine – he still doesn’t approve of the ‘taken
home’ aspect, but is prepared to tolerate something that includes
those essential elements in his life, food and cuddles.
His owners have tried variations on what time they let
him out, or let him in – Thug is a great one for wailing outside
the window at five in the morning because he’s hungry, or it’s
time for his next cuddle treatment. They have tried multiple
variations on when to keep him in, when to let him out, looking for
that sweet-spot combination where he stays down with them. It
doesn’t matter what they do, he still comes to see us. Today (so
that’s two days in a row) he arrived mid-morning. My partner met
him as she was feeding the sheep and he strolled back to the house
with her, in search of the usual light snack and personal attention.
I drove him home, because it gives our cats peace and quiet, and
makes rolling in the mud their choice, rather than Thug’s.
For Thug it is not a matter of whether the journey or
the destination is more important, just that there is food and love
when he arrives. Or at least other cats to snack on.
Now, Christmas is coming. The season of good will to
all ginger moggies, the time when Thug tried to move in with us last
year, because it was too wild and noisy at home with friends, family
and their dogs visiting. In this season of giving, I currently make
a routine check under the trees (Christmas or not) for the presence
of the ginger gift of love and feline violence that just keeps
giving.
Remember, a cat is not just for Christmas, except
perhaps for Thug, who is more prepared to go home in January.
