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Catsitting Capers

This week I found myself catsitting for two friends at once, which sounds like the basis of a comic novel but falls flat because there was absolutely no need to keep the details of one catsitting gig secret from the second cat owner and vice versa.

The first cat lives near me. A former stray, all she requires is the odd pouch of Whiskas, a topup of her dry food, and clean water, plus a few cuddles. I have been whizzing back from work, feeding her, then heading off to Romford and the second batch of cats.

These three are more demanding, coming with detailed instructions about how many scoops of dry food, how many teaspoons of wet food, and which one is on a diet (clue: it's the fat one). Two are girls from a rescue, one is a boy who just turned up and wouldn't leave.

I have been staying over with them, which means a refreshing change to my commute: onto the M25 and over the Dartford Crossing. It's all gone surprisingly well except for yesterday, when two lorries crashed into each other just before the bridge and caused several miles of tailback.

This morning I was treated to the sight of the male cat falling off a kitchen worktop with an empty pretzel bag jammed on his head. I think I've found my spirit animal.


the male cat falling off a kitchen worktop with an empty pretzel bag jammed on his head

^_^ Reminds me of the black bun the other day, outside their usual field, standing up, and even then, still only about the height of all the leafy vegetation around. The thought occurs that, really, that's not such a bad life, being surrounded by fresh food your own height.

(For a wild bun, they're remarkably chill - I can still inadvertently cause them concern if I move too quickly, but if I'm careful to keep the motion subdued, not abrupt, they're quite fine with me being maybe only 20' away. Of course, it'll never happen, but I still wonder about somehow luring them close enough to touch.. perhaps I should deploy the raisins someday =:)
I have successfully used raisins on badgers!