Memorial Cat Day

It's a year ago this morning that I couldn't find Little Mac, our little black and white cat. I've already had a cup of tea in her memory, in a black and white spotted cat mug, and given her memorial tree a bucket of water. I'll never ever forget you, Little Mac, goggle-eyed catlet.

 I miss her so much.
Little Mac the Black and White Cat

A choir friend needs someone to feed her cats while she's away on a musical holiday. She sheepishly muttered quietly about having seven of them. One has sirloin steak in the laundry, two others get dried food on the verandah, while a third gets a tin of Fancy Feast on his own in the kitchen...

Feeding the Cats...

No problem - I'll do it! Feeding multiple cats is never a one-size-fits-all situation. Here Minimus eats in the cottage, Lilli-Puss in the Stables, and ginger Percy, hopelessly slow and shy, is either fed by hand up on the table or popped quietly out of sight underneath a chair. The two fatties (Tiger and Fluff-Fluff) finish off everyone else's meals and so need to be shoo-ed away. Histeria the tabby likes the feeding station, and is really good at pushing any companion cat off balance and onto the floor below.

 With patio-rose-sized blooms.
Red Rose Intrigue

Tuesday 25th February

Right. Today I'm gardening for Little Mac, and all the other 'lost' loved cats in the gardening world. And all the 'found' loved cats, too.

Much, Much Later...

First I worked in the garden on the back lawn, so beautifully mowed in the weekend by Non-Gardening Partner. Big Fluff-Fluff hid in the Ligularias and miaowed whenever I trudged past - to say hello? Knowing him it was more likely 'Feed me' - he is still on his diet, and rather grumpy with it. Walk past him in the house and out comes his paw. Hey you, stop! I need some food!

I've dug out another bucketful of self-sown potatoes, and have pulled out lots of weeds. Hopefully the David Austin roses planted in here (Darcey Bussell is one) will respond and re-bloom magnificently for me. I've also cleared Middle Bridge, trimming the lemon balm and the ferns which flop all over it. I'm OK with lemon balm. It smells so gorgeous. I'm sure I can think of worse self-seeders - can I?

 The Ligularias are ready to be trimmed.
Mowing the Back House Lawn

After lunch I filled the wheelbarrow with topsoil and wandered around with it, dumping loads where needed. The cottage, first, where smily Minimus the cottage cat was snoozing on her new cushions. I checked the newly planted roses - Intrigue looks like a Valentine's Day florist's special, while the Blanc Double de Coubert rugosas look much more naturally pretty to my rustic eye. I like the white flowers against the green of the cottage, too.

 A white rugosa.
Blanc Double de Coubert Roses

Then I took some topsoil loads over to the new garden by the Willow Stump, where I was met by grey Lilli-Puss in a super-smoochy mood, wanting to climb up and down and all over me. Ouch - those claws! The end of the Dog-path Garden desperately needed weeding, so that was my next job. From Lilli-Puss's perspective, the gardener kneeling to weed is simply me in the cat-smooching position. Ouch again!

 Three of my cats.
Lilli-Puss, Tiger, and Minimus

I thought about my memorial Little Mac gardening day and how silly it was really - Little Mac always stayed in the house, and rarely came gardening. Then I returned to the back lawn to pick up some of my tools, and Fluff-Fluff did the biggest leap out of the greenery onto my feet. Aargh! I nearly tripped over him. Dear cat - he'd been waiting all that time.

 Three of the house cats.
Fluff-Fluff, Histeria, and Percy

Now I'm inside, all clean, and ginger Percy wants to sit on my lap. But he is not the floppiest of cats, and is likely to launch himself off at the tiniest unexpected noise. I haven't seen Histeria the tabby all day, but Tiger is here, a permanent indoor feature, curled up on Rusty the dog's chair. Tiger never goes anywhere or does anything. But that doesn't mean she's boring, or that I love her any less!

I've had a wonderful day, and I love all my cats. There is always room in my heart for all of them. And I miss you every day, Little Mac. So sorry you'll never get to climb your tree.