Mad Cat Ladies (and Gents) of the World Unlimited.  Welcome Welcome – all are welcome.

So – a couple of days ago a miewing (not meowing) was heard, cutting through the droning of E News – shit, the rain is frying my brain if I have resorted to watching that mind bending, silly celebrity nonsense propaganda pile of drivel.  I did of course start watching it for research, but was sucked in by their TV Voodoo.  Anyway, I digress – miewing. High pitched.  Turns out it belongs to a mummy cat and 2 kittens.  A very young mummy cat – far too young to have little ones, she’s practically a kitten herself.  Ohhhhh – there goes the nurture switch. Brilliant !  Yep – right on cue.  Come on then – let the hormones commence.  They are furry.  Cute.  They need me !

Facts are they don’t.  Wild cats here are part of the nature of this place.  A sorry part, as Greeks in general are not carers of pets, and in the most part wouldn’t dream of getting hold of a stray and neutering it, then releasing it back into the general populous so it can’t make a million more poor hungry, cold, wet, miserable furry progeny.  Feral animals are everywhere.

So – instead of walking away, and allowing them to pass on through, I say, “Hellooooo” (the protracted ‘ooooo’ was said in the sort of squeaky, ecstatic, giddy voice of a person that is melting with love for small creatures and hasn’t spoken to a human being for 6 hours).  Of course, they get the hint, the one that is emblazoned on my forehead and gushing through my pores.  The one that says ‘I’m a soft touch, come and add yourself to my brood and turn the status quo upside down, while possibly biting and scratching me a lot as you are feral, but that’s ok because I’m totally stupid like that’… they follow me back to the house.

Balls.  Husband type person is going to go spare.  Bloody needy little cuties – terrorising my poor cat as they wheedle into his territory with their high pitched meows, and nosey hole behaviour.  Fearless little shits.  New furry family members with sandpaper kisses. Greeeeat !  Shit.  Shit.  Shit.  But then again – awwwwww.

My poor cat’s walking round like he’s being stalked by a tiger.  Intimidated, confused and perplexed as to why a smaller cat that doesn’t live here is growling at him, and wondering what these teacup versions are about, and why do they insist on trying to make friends with me when ‘I hate them and wish they’d walk into the sea and leave me and my family in peace’.  You wuss Merl – plus .. what a meanie !  He shoots off back into the house when faced with such teeny terrorism, then sulks and stops eating his din dins.  What did I start ?

The dog, Beau is having terrible inner struggles when confronted with the new arrivals to The Beach House.  It is chaos – the poor mutt doesn’t know what to do with tiny little meat balls running around under it’s nose.  He’s going to have nervous  breakdown.

I love a bit of a challenge, I do.

Till Later My Lovelies,

❤