Cats, dogs and the healing power of laughter
Posted by Fiona Nevile in Cottage tales, Fun | 21 comments
Photo: Stone dog holding basket
When I first moved to the countryside 25 years ago, I was given two kittens. I had this harebrained idea that I’d call all my pets names from the shipping forecast areas. It seemed a nice and neat way to progress. Cat wise this was easy. I eventually settled on Finistere and Faeroe (the vet thought this is how Faro was spelt as I had no idea). Dogs would clearly be called Dogger, Fisher and possibly German Bight.
But when I bought my first Min Pin the dog names didn’t seem to suit this diminutive hero. Dogger and Fisher were shaggy dog names, more Spaniel than a Min Pin. Even though a Min Pin is a German Breed, the name German Bight seemed a bit too majestic and would have probably been shortened to Germ.
After a year of being called Nipperty he was eventually christened Fly after a favourite whippet that belonged to my father. Once named, he seemed to get his wings in an instant. Vague tussles with my two cats became a proper 24/7 job. They didn’t like this reorganising of the ranks and eventually one must have fought back. One evening I heard Fly weeping on the stairs. I got up to check what was going on. Fin was at the top and Faeroe was at the bottom. Fly was crouched on a step in the middle of the stairs unable to move up or down.
The cats had won. Like elephants, cats never forget. I’m sure some cats forgive but mine were clearly inexperienced souls. It was war. If Fly tripped out to the garden to have a pee they would close in a pincer movement on the home side of the cat flap. He was too big to kill but teasing him was a game that went on and on.
Fly travelled everywhere with me and would leave the little house with a sniff of pride. But cats are patient. On his return they would always remind him who was boss.
As the cats didn’t have the freedom of travelling in the car they were allowed to sleep upstairs. Fly’s role was to guard the house downstairs until dawn. Then he was allowed to spring upstairs and join us all in the human cat/dog basket. He always crept onto the foot of the bed whilst the cats curled around the pillows at the head.
When the alarm trilled the cats would spring into action, baying for their food. I tend to set my alarm clock half an hour early so that I can bask and doze. The cats didn’t like this at all and would scrabble around my hair, shrieking and pawing. One ghastly day I opened my mouth wide to shout ‘Shut up,’ and Fin put a paw in my mouth.
I was up in a nano second and in the bathroom reaching for the Listerene before I could say, ‘Was that a clean paw?’ ASBO Cats hadn’t been invented back then.
Fin remembered this battle-winning move. From then on the alarm would bleep and I’d open one eye to see a paw hovering. It had to be ventriloquist communication from then on. Fly always remained at the foot of the bed completely silent.
I remembered those old times this evening. Pamela had left a comment on my Millie post, pointing me in the direction of some superb cat and dog animations by Simon Tofield. I’d returned home after a stressful day, so sidelined the supper and immediately browsed to these mini animated movies. I laughed for a good fifteen minutes. Thanks Pamela, they really buoyed me up – it’s easy to forget that laughter is good medicine.
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My sister, who technically was the owner of TobyCat, rang for a chat tonight and mentioned that she had watched the videos of Simon’s cat which she had enjoyed with her children. She was delighted to discover that she had missed the TV dinner video and the dog one and was going to check them out.
Hi Jo
Delighted that you enjoyed this post!
Your cat sounds mischievous just like our youngest Min Pin who likes to lick our feet when were are asleep. The Contessa drums on our chests from dawn hoping to get us out of bed to make her breakfast.
I’d love to have cats again but Danny doesn’t like them very much.
Hi, I’ve just discovered your blog via Jo @ LittleFfarm Dairy and boy, am I glad I did!
The bit about Fly on the stairs had me crying with laughter but after last night, I’m not laughing about paw-in-the-mouth: one of my boys (the lucky so-and-so remains anonymous) spent the night entertaining himself by batting me on the nose. When he discovered that I would merely close my eyes, he resorted to using his claws on my nose. When that got him in trouble, he made his way down the bed and started on my toes. Needless to say, he was unceremoniously booted off the bed, much to his disgust!
Animals!
Hello Pamela
Your suggestion came at the perfect time. I have watched the movies over and over and marvelled at the animation skill.
TobyCat sounds like the best sort of cat. Individual and quirky but the sort of beast to engender great affection. Terrific.
Hello Michelle
I have met a local cat called Romeo. He has the same impact!
Hi Veronica
Danny loves Brussels sprouts too. Say no more. Also he doesn’t like cats. Was there a fight in the past over this vegetable?!
Hi S.O.L.
I felt sorry for Fly but he was a tyrant before the worms turned. What goes around comes around.
Hello Magic Cochin
Loves Asparagus? She wouldn’t have a look in here but we would try to tempt her with the sprouts that D loves and I loathe.
The cartoons are great medicine.
I reckon that Chester might have seen them before and thought that they were unsuitable for you ?
Hello Linda
Great that you enjoyed them. Thanks for dropping by.
Hello Carol
Loved the tale! If I was small enough, I think I’d stretch out on top of the TV –the only warm spot in the cottage most nights, if we turn it on.
Hello Sam
One thing that I twigged when I had both cats and dogs is that cats love dog food and dogs love cat food. They were fed in separate areas (a closed door in between). When I opened the door there was a rush to lick clean the other animal’s bowls.
Hi Amanda
Children and pets do fill the house with laughter. But we have tto hide our smiles from the Min Pins as they are proud creatures and hate to be laughed at! :- )
I’ll check out the movie. It sounds ideal. Thanks.
Hello Jo
Claws in my nostrils would have me up in a second and possibly on the phone to find a new home for the cat! But seriously. We all put up with loads of ‘individual’ behaviour’ from our pets. That’s what makes them seem rounded personalities – in a weird sort of way.
Hi Wendy
Glad that you enjoyed the post and links. Pamela has given a lot of people a good time!
Hi Jo
Poor you. The cat night from hell. Although you made it so amusing.
Thank goodness we don’t have those touch sensitive lights. The Min Pins would be playing with them all night.
Hi Pamela
Toby Cat was a pillar of the community compared to many, many cats that are living as ‘companions’ in our homes. Loved Jo’s comment too.
Hello Jo
So sorry to read your poignant tale about Shaui. She sounds like she was a extraordinary cat. I do believe that some lucky people are sometimes blessed with a pet that really enhances their lives. They live in a special part of your heart forever.
I’d give my eye teeth to have my Faeroe back. Even though he’s been dead for 18 years, whenever I see a black cat my heart skips, hoping that it might be him. Mad, I know.
Hope that you have a good night’s sleep tonight!
Hello Pamela
So TobyCat wasn’t a hunter. Even so he was much loved and probably without him we wouldn’t have experienced the fun of the animations and our conversations. Hail TobyCat , wherever you are!
Jo – TobyCat was elderly when he shuffled off this mortal coil although still a youngster compared to your Senior Cat! However, one thing I can be quite certain of is that although he will be having fun, it will be entirely on his own terms and will definitely not include catching mice!
P.S. Wish me a good night’ssleep….I need it!! 😉
Pamela – delighted to be of service! However there is that poignant little word in your own comment; “was”….
No matter how annoying/infuriating/frustrating our mogs might be, I cannot imagine life without their enriching company. When our darling Senior Cat (an Abyssinian X called Shaui which is an Ancient Egyptian name meaning ‘Wild Lady Cat’) passed away at the ripe old age of 22 the other year, we grieved deeply at her loss.
She was buried in a beautiful hand-crafted coffin (complete with commemorative plaque & gold handles, plus of course a bowl of her favourite food – roast chicken – along with her toys; & tucked into bed wrapped in her blanket, which we scattered with fragrant wild flowers (to attract those heavenly butterflies) before sadly sealing the coffin & saying goodbye.
She’s buried in our orchard, in the spot closest to the kitchen Rayburn where she used to love to warm her elegant little toes.
She was a wonderful, sweet, gentle, humorous feline; the best of the best & I miss her so very, very much – in spite of all her tricksy ways. I’d give any number of sleepless nights, to have her back.
Hopefully she & Tobycat are having a wonderful time catching mice together, in that ‘wherever-we-go’ eternal resting place….
Jo – I thought Fiona’s tale of the “paw in the mouth” was hilarious but truly, it pales into insignificance compared to the antics of your cats! It also makes me realise just how easy life with our TobyCat was.
Urgh. Further to what I wrote yesterday, thanks to my errant moglets I have just endured the Night from Hell.
Finding myself falling asleep over my Welsh revision I switched off the bedroom light at around 11.30pm.
Moriarty had already staked his claim to the warm spot at the foot of the bed; but at least although he’s a heavy lump (being a Maine Coon he’s rather large) he didn’t move all night, apart from stretching occasionally & disturbing my comatose state by crackling the pages of my discarded Welsh books.
Then Nevada inflicted the true misery. Being autistic she has some obsessive-compulsive behaviour; namely, grooming her luxurious fur. She proceeded to flop down next to me on the pillowafter which she spent a good couple of hours of very noisy licking; interspersed with occasionally turning round & – worse I think, than the baseball bat – liberally smothering my nose & mouth with her huge plume of a feather-duster tail.
At last, she settled down for a brief forty winks; & then decided to wake up & play the game of Turning On The Bedroom Lights (we have touch-sensitive lamps on the bedside tables & there’s a pull-cord light switch over the head of the bed, where she invariably ends up getting her claw stuck & panicking). And of course there’s the risk she’ll knock over my bedside glass of water…which as we have a heated duvet, might prove somewhat electrifying…!
Meanwhile Silli came up to bed & settled down on my back, purring like a jack hammer for what seemed an age. We all eventually started to drift off to sleep – until Silli abruptly leapt off the bed & yacked an almighty furball onto the carpet (which – exhausted as I was I forgot about until I inadvertently rediscovered it squelching between my bare toes, as I stumbled my way to the bathroom this morning).
Needless to say, tonight the bedroom door will remain firmly CLOSED, with the cats relegated to the far side…..
Really enjoyed reading your page today (as always). My husband’s desk is opposite mine with our computers between us. He thought I had gone mad today sitting giggling and laughing at my computer. Of course I had clicked the Simon/cat link in your post! Absolutely brilliant! x