August 7th - Holiday diaries #1

08/08/2008 by Brigid.

It is hard to believe that this time last week we were on our way to Boulogne: me, John and two rather stressed-out cats. We weren’t sure how the cats would react to the all day car journey across France. Foggy beeped and miaowed for the first three hours, while Tiggy just panted and drooled. But, by and large, they took it in their stride. By the time we reached the ferry, they were happy to take a drink of freshly made chicken stock, eat a handful of dry kibble and use the litter tray … in the car. Nice. At least the drive from Dover to Coulsdon was mercifully quiet.

After a couple of uneventful days with Betty, we all piled back into the car for the trip to the Isle of Wight.

To set the scene a little, my mum’s home started out as a gatehouse to a largish mansion that has long since been demolished and replaced by a garage forecourt. The house itself is somewhat eccentric. Located on a corner, where the village one-way system descends a steep hill to the harbour, its ground floor extends over several levels as various extensions have been added over the years. The not-so-huge rooms are chocabloc with unsuitably-large pieces of creeky furniture which, themselves, are crammed with fragile ornaments, clocks, photographs, newspapers, magazines and important, “mustn’t lose”, correspondence. Take into account that my mother is nearly 80 and not as nippy on her pins as she used to be, and it doesn’t take Mystic Meg to predict the potential chaos that two sprightly year-old cats could bring to the mix.

To give them their due, the cats have adjusted to each new environment quickly. As long as they have their own little ‘house’, bedding, food, etc., and a window to look out of, they don’t seem to mind being shut up in our room … which is lucky, as that is exactly where they were imprisonned for most of yesterday.

In the event, it was an enormous dried flower arrangement that proved the biggest temptation for Tig and Foggy. Each summer for the last fifteen years or so, the arrangement has seen the addition of more and more hydrangeas and each winter Mum would augment the colour with a few new artificial flowers. Until yesterday, this impressive display resembled a small hedgerow, complete with tasty-looking autumn berries and wheat ears. The cats clearly hoped to find field mice and birds nesting in it. But after they twice managed to topple the vase from a small side table in the dining room, Mum found a new space for it, in front of the sitting room fireplace, conveniently blocking access to the chimney!

The problem for us all has been to remember to close doors that normally remain open. With no space in the cupboards to store their food, the cats waste no time raiding the kitchen, if allowed access. They are cunning too. They learned quickly that the sound of a container full of dry food hitting the floor could be heard all over the house and so changed tactics. Mum and I couldn’t help but laugh when we found Tig crouching very still beside the food container on the worksurface. The flip-up lid was open, and one nut of kibble lay next to it. Crafty beggars have worked out how to extract their food without upsetting the container!

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