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By Ms. G, March 4, 2021 9:19 pm

Our cat is a curious little man.

Perhaps if you like the sound of running water you’ll enjoy this.

My apologies to the earth for the wasted water – VAL was the photographer, not me.

Sometimes I just don’t know what to say.

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By Ms. G, September 15, 2020 5:41 pm

When times are a bit rough, it’s always nice to have cuddly (sort of) and cute cats around. Today Shadow gave me the stink eye but she was purring at the same time. Now that’s talent.

She is camera shy, usually.

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By Ms. G, April 10, 2020 7:49 am

Richard is the boss! He watched us eat dinner from this perch last night.

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By Ms. G, April 1, 2020 11:19 am

This is what happens to Val when he uses a mouse during his online video meetings.

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By Ms. G, August 18, 2019 2:33 pm

As summer whittles away, I try to appreciate the time I’ve had with Richard and Shadow. While Shadow is not photogenic and doesn’t actually like interference in her affairs, Richard is only too happy to look up at the camera with his big green eyes.

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By Ms. G, May 9, 2019 7:50 pm

Fletch – 19 years old. A very good boy. We had to say goodbye to him today.

Fletch should be remembered as the cat who cured himself of diabetes and lived through three near-death experiences at the emergency vet.

Fletch was my first cat. He’s the first cat I was allergic to.

He is lovingly remembered by Val, his best friend and loyal companion who brought him home from the Humane Society at age 1, his aunt Felicity, who cat-sat him often and just loved him to pieces!, and by me, his adopted dog person.

Fletch was pre-deceased by Bailey, step-dogs Hopi and Zuni, and survived by Shadow (his best cat friend) and Richard, his nemesis.

Fletch – good-natured, friendly, cuddly and sleepy!

Goodbye old man.

Love,

Risa and Val, Shadow and Richard

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By Ms. G, April 2, 2019 8:39 pm

… so Shadow would like to say “hi.”

That’s all. She’s very quiet.

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By Ms. G, March 10, 2019 5:03 pm

Almost exactly three years ago we rescued Richard from an impending blizzard at the cottage. He’s a lot calmer now – he even sleeps at times other than nighttime – though I wouldn’t necessarily say he’s more mature.

Richard is a character. He has a tonne of it. He employs it at almost all times, such as when he stares into the sink even when there’s absolutely nothing happening in it. He loves boxes, but he also eats boxes. He finds the corner of the kitchen counter the most exciting place in the world even though there’s not much there except a bowl of bananas. He loves socks, blankets, bathrobes, and all things fuzzy. He gets so obsessed with them that we have to take them away. Okay, so he has OCD and ADHD. We love him the way he is.

Like all good cats, he can lounge anywhere. In piles of laundry, in the laundry basket, beside the phone, on the ottoman on top of my paper work, on the sofa, in the sink…

Last year at this time I wrote about him turning two. Check out how adorable he was (and still is).

We love you Richard! Thanks for picking us.

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By Ms. G, August 2, 2018 9:12 am

Our third cat, little Bailey, has come to the end of the line. He was struggling to eat and was losing weight fast so we thought the best thing we could do for him was put him out of his misery.

So little.

It’s really hard to describe Bailey, a rather reclusive cat. He came to us about five years ago, hanging out on our deck until we let him in. We had seen him before in the front and back of our house, calling him “Brown Tabby.” He was a big guy back then. He was shy then, too, disappearing out of sight quickly. That’s why it was such a surprise when he parked himself on the deck in plain view.

Bailey fit in with our two other cats fine by ignoring them for the most part. He kept to himself, spending the first two years here under the buffet in the dining room. Gradually he branched out to the dining room table itself and even the loft. But his favourite place was our bed where he would come for snuggles almost every night. This was entirely out of character for him because he would actually back away from us if we approached him. But the bed was safe, for some reason. He loved his chin rubs and he loved to rub his sore mouth up against my hand. This held true for the cottage as well, where he would leave his abode – the corner of the cupboard – only to hop on the bed.

Bailey was quiet and did no harm. Once Richard arrived a year and a half ago, he had to defend himself against the youngster’s relentless chasing. I’m sure that heightened his stress levels. Yet they would sleep close to each other in the loft, sometimes even on opposite sides of the bench, separated by a pillow.

I will miss Bailey and will keep him in my memories forever as my special cat.