Room For Two

Oscar and Max enjoy their indoor KatKabin.

My first pets

I arrived in the UK to start my new life on the 10th October 1992. I had shipped most of my furniture beforehand and just loaded the car with the things you can't do without - not even for a week or so. It might be worth mentioning at this point that I hardly did speak any english - the little I could remember from school wasn't going to get me through. And as my teacher pointed once out to me "you just don't understand this, you will never be able to speak english". Great!
On my way from Dover to London using the motorway I saw the sign "No hard shoulder" which I passed on many occassions. It remained a mystery for quite some time - till I was actually able to ask anyone. We learned in school about the London buses, men wearing suits wearing an umbrella. Oh yes and standing nicely in a queue. But no hard shoulder.
I arrived in London early morning and moved into one amazing flat direct on the River Thames. The flat had two floors whereas the master bedroom (another word I slowly got used to) was beneath the waterlevel during high tide. I was living in that flat for a year and I can't remember one day where I didn't prey for the walls not to fall down. I experienced the first time in my life the meaning of "fog" as it was so thick you really couldn't see anything. But it was such a beautiful flat and to my delight, also had quite a few colourful neighbours who livened daily life up to no end.
But this part of the city was sparse with parks and places to walk and I had my heart set on having a dog. This now sounds very silly, but the Ceasar advert with this cute Westhighland Terrier did it for me. Not at any stage in my life before have I even been remotely interested in cats or dogs or any other pet. Because the dog which I eventually would have, needs to go for walkies, I moved to West London, Osterley to be precise and quite opposite the Osterley Park. Now I could find a dog. I had heard about Battersea Dogs Home and one day I went there to find my dog. It's a very large building and there are so many dogs that makes it very hard to decide on one. Most dogs are quite large and I was looking for a smaller one. And there he was, in the last cage of course, about 7 months old and together with his brother. They had been found wandering the streets of London all on their own just 14 days earlier. And although they both looked alike for me one of them was different and this was the one I choose.
After home visits and checks I finally got my dog which I called "Tigger". This was a totally appropriate name for him. He was the most sweetest little thing anyone can imagine.
Our first walk together into Osterley Park was a new adventure for the both of us and as he got tired because I walked too far, I carried him home. I knew there was a good reason for having a small dog.
"Tigger" changed my life completely. As I was working from home it was very easy to look after him. When I went to teach my seminars, "Tigger" just came as well. He usually planted himself in the centre of the group and just slept there. In 1995 I gave up on the seminars and instead enrolled on a 2 year business seminar at the College which was just a few corners from my flat. Tigger spend the first time since we lived together for a few hours a day all by himself. Mind you, not without howling to let all of the neighbours know how upset he was. Then there came the dreadful Friday evening where he chased after a fox and broke his ligaments. All I heard was a scream and at that moment I thought that the fox might have bitten him. As it was very dark I was unable to see him first till he came closer and I noticed that he was limbing. This was our first major incident and I guess I was as distressed as Tigger. The vet advised to keep him calm and come to see him in the morning. There we learned the truth that Tigger had done a "Gasgoigne" as the vet put it. In reality it meant that he had broken his ligament and needed an operation. As it was Saturday that had to wait till Monday but thanks to an injection and loving tender care and attention we made it through the weekend.
With the help of a neighbour Tigger was lifted in the car. Tigger was just like any other male, very sensitive when it comes to pain and how much you can take of it. I did promise him that after the operation he would be fine. But far from it. Although the operation went well he still was in a lot of pain. He had already all the painkillers he could have but I found myself ringing the vet in the middle of the night asking what to do because quite obviously he still was in a lot of pain. I tried to make him as comfortable as posssible by putting him on a heap of cushions but really it was no big help. So I searched the Internet in the hope I could find a bed that was helpful but there wasn't anything that was designed for that purpose. Which is why I invented the heated Waterbeds for Pets. The first prototype was tested by Tigger and it really did make a difference as there were no pressure points on his leg anymore. Even the vet was surprised how much difference it had made.
After many prototypes later I had a workable product and I started a company selling the Waterbeds.
When Tigger did feel a bit better I wanted to take him to the park to meet his friends as I was worried that he was getting a bit depressed. But how do you do this? he can't walk. I bought a pushchair, took the seat off and made a bed for Tigger in the lower part for the shopping. He just loved it. Now we could get to the park. I'm sure you can imagine the comments from people when we first time walked the streets. Most of it was very humerous although there is of course always one....
As we knew each other very well sign language worked very well between us. He would let me know when he needed to get to a tree and I drove him there, helped him out of his chair and after the event helped him back in it. Not once in all the months we used it did he just jump out - oh no he always let me know when he wanted to get off - even when he was much better and could actually walk again - for a long time he did not leave the house without that push chair. Only once we had arrived in the park did he consent to actually walk and got back into it when we left the park.
A year later he broke the other side by running after a squirrel. But this time, thanks to the waterbed, his recovery was much quicker and thank god we still had the push chair.
When Channel 4 made a film about the waterbeds Tigger starred in it by showing off his skills jumping in and out of the push chair.

My little Hunter

None of my cats is particularly fond of cold and wet weather. They all become couch potatoes during winter which is why my guestroom has itself converted entirely into a "cats room". Just as well that no one comes to stay overnight right now. We just wouldn't have the space with all the different kind of cat beds in that room. Apart from baskets and chairs we've got a KatKube and an indoor Katkabin both of which Max is very fond. Harry, when he sleeps upstairs prefers my bed where he manages to make himself really long and I have to try to sqeeze myself in so to not to disturb him. He gets quite grumpy if you do. I did notice, the older he gets the more he is settled in his little ways - does this remind you of something?
We have two sofas in the living room and Harry insists of having the 2seater to himself. If I sit on it he will pester me till I give up. No one sits on the other one - no idea why - so I sit on the floor while Harry spreads himself on the sofa. By the way, he will not get off it till it's time for his last run around the block before bed time.
Oscar basically can fall asleep anywhere and as there are lots of possibilities in the house I find myself usually searching for him because he might prefer the laundry basket that evening and hides underneath the clothes.

Now with the weather getting warmer Mother Nature produces new off spring for all kind of animals that are just made to hunt for if you are a cat and are fond of the occassional takeaway. The problem of course is that it needs to be killed first which Oscar prefers to do at home. Preferably on my white carpets.
Once he has fetched them - and Harry does exactly the same thing - they run past me as fast as they can, very well aware that I do not share their enthusiasm quite the opposite and I do yell and try to get them out of the house. It's not always working and I'm afraid, if this mouse is a bit bigger I don't even want to get near it or pass it for that matter so I go on the sofa and hope that it's going to be over soon. If I'm unlucky they are actually manage to loose it - that's the worst szenario and at one time I had to fetch a neighbour to help me to fetch it ourselves.

One morning I cought Oscar just in time and managed to close the door on him and I literally had to barrikade the catflap because this clever little tearaway doesn't take "no" for an answer. He is the only one of my cats who can get in the house with the catflap closed. As I said, he is quite clever and inventive.
He tried for quite some time to come in with that mouse still attached to his teeth but this time I did not let him.
Now can you guess what he did next?
No? Here it goes: As the cat flap is through the wall of the house there is quite a bit of a passway between one door and the other. Oscar pushed his mouse inside that space and comes to the back door all innocent - no mouse. Which made me believe he had given up on it and I opened the door for him and removed the barrikade in front of the flap. Oscar jumped into through the catflap and fingered his mouse from the inside. I just couldn't believe what I was watching.
Oscar found a way to get pass me and have his mouse in the house.
I can tell you, I am not falling for that one again.

My Cats and I

I don't know about your morning by thanks to my 3 cats, Harry soon aged 9, Max now 3 ½ and Oscar, the tabby baby who will be 2 in May, my mornings (and any other time of the day) are very entertaining.

We also have a permanent visitor who actually lives a few houses further up the road but kind of lives with us part time – especially meal times. I am calling him “Ginger” for lack of knowing his real name and as he is red...

Ginger first took a shine to us last summer – not that this made much sense – because he didn’t get a welcome note from the other residents. In fact that made no secret of their clear annoyance that he dared to come in, eat their food and played with their toys and to just really annoy them, wanted to be stroked by me. This dislike worked both ways – he did not treasure their company either. During his visits he got hissed at, jumped from behind and in a cat kind of way it was made absolutely crystal clear to him to just bug off.

He still came every day and enjoyed himself despite the opposition by playing with the toys. I personally didn’t mind as I just loved his spirit but as he didn’t dare to fight with the residents it was me who got hissed at and scratched.

A lot of meals and staying overnights later he has developed into a friendly pussy cat – very fond of cuddles and company.

Harry still wishes him hell on earth but a bit does it a bit more subtle these days, Max can’t really be bothered unless he has back-up and Oscar still likes to surprise him with an attack from behind the curtains – but then again, Oscar does this to everybody else as well.

Oscar has developed at times into a bit of a bully although when he looks at you with these big brown eyes – personified innocence itself – you just can’t help yourself thinking that all you want to do is just cuddle him. His little ways certainly work on me.

I am trying a new tactic to curb the bullying – because quite frankly, nothing else has worked so far. When he now has a go at Harry or Max – and I mean this in every sense of the word – hairs are flying and Harry in particular can scream for England – whereas max just runs for his life to try and get away from this little tearaway – instead of screaming myself, I am now try to stay calm and fetch him and basically whisper to him in an effort to calm him down.
Mind you – it hasn’t stopped him in the long run – but it seems as it does has a calming effect for that moment and he does let it go.

Oscar always was very brave. I never forget the day he arrived – 6 weeks old – just taken from his mother and siblings and put into a new house all by himself with a strange person and 3 other big cats. It must have been absolutely terrifying. I never before had any thoughts about this till that day – now I do and I wish there would be a better way.

Oscar was hiding in a corner watched by all 3 of them from a safe distance. Suddenly Oscar took heart, leaped out from behind his corner and jumped side wards, his back and hair stretched to the maximum, in front of them like – and I’m sure he was – saying: “Don’t you dare come near me!!”.

And guess what, no one did dare. They were absolutely fascinated just watching him.

After that we never looked back, He stood his ground and become the most loving companion for Mays, my wonderful Burmese, who at the time was very ill and died a few months later. Oscar, as little as he was, seemed to understand that love was the most precious gift he could give to Maya and the two of them became inseparable till her death a few months later.