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...And The Other Boys May 18, 2003 Last week I introduced my two dogs, Wally and Sam, who lived with me on my farm in Australia, and who traveled from Australia to their new home in Sweden last year. This week it’s the turn of our other boys – my wife’s three cats, who lived with her in her apartment in town before we bought our house together out here in the country. We have two white Norwegian Forest cats, called Toulouse and Picasso, who are brothers, although to look at them you would find it hard to believe. Toulouse is, to put it mildly, a large cat. As in big. His fur is very long and thick and white and his favourite occupation is eating, closely followed by sleeping – in that order. These two take up around 99% of his time. His brother, Picasso, on the other hand is extremely skinny, although he enjoys eating almost as much as Toulouse. Picasso suffers from the cat equivalent of aids, which from time to time requires medication, and means that he never really puts on any weight. He is also deaf, and bitterly resents any closed door – he will stand outside and shriek at the top of his not inconsiderable voice until the door is opened for him. These two are as unlike in temperament as they are in appearances. Toulouse is a big softy, and enjoys attention whenever he can get it. Picasso, on the other hand, is a very aloof, private individual, who keeps himself to himself and will rarely condescend to allow himself to be touched. His favourite occupation, apart from sleeping on top of the radio on the kitchen window sill (no-one else is allowed on that, it belongs to Picasso alone), is chasing and biting Toulouse and Cornelius. Which brings us to the clown of the family. Cornelius is a basic farm cat, who was obtained by my wife some three years ago when she feared that Picasso, who was very sick at the time, would not survive. Cornelius was brought in as a six week old kitten and was immediately adopted as a surrogate nephew by Toulouse and Picasso. Cornelius has a habit of talking to himself. He will often walk through a room muttering in small cat noises under his breath. If I should happen to sneeze unexpectedly, he will run from the room protesting loudly, as if to say “why don’t you give me some warning when you do that!” He is also omnivorous – the list of foods that he will eat now stretches over two pages and includes such non-cat items as peas, corn, broccoli, rice, pasta, curry and lingon berry jam. He is the most playful of the three and will play for some time with a piece of uncooked pasta or spaghetti. So how have we managed with three cats and two dogs, I can hear you ask. The short answer is not so well at the moment. Living on the farm in Australia, the dogs were in the habit of chasing anything that moved – rabbits, snakes, kangaroos, even birds. So their natural instincts are to chase the cats. During the daytime the cats have the run of the house, while the big boys enjoy the sunshine out in their back yard, which is complete with their own house with lambswool beds, is fully insulated and even has an oil filled radiator during the cold winter days. Of course, during the coldest times of winter, with temperatures down to – 30 degrees Celsius, we bring the dogs indoors. At night time, and during cold winter days, the dogs come indoors. And that’s when our problems start. Our solution so far is to isolate the cats to the upstairs, while the dogs have the downstairs. We have a doorway at the bottom of the staircase and we have cut a small cat door into that, with small holes in it through which the dogs and cats can get acquainted. At least that’s the idea. Picasso, however, thinks it is great fun to sit in safety behind the cat door at the bottom of the stairs and call out loudly. When the dogs go to investigate, and put their noses close to the holes in the door, they are rewarded with a friendly claw across their noses. One night, around two o’clock, I woke up and went to the kitchen to get a drink of water. There, in the middle of the kitchen table, was Picasso. He had somehow managed to lift the cat door and had made his way to the kitchen, past the dogs asleep in the hallway, and had made himself comfortable on the table. I carefully carried him upstairs and put a couple of screws in the cat door to keep it closed before going back to bed, breathing a sigh of relief that he was unharmed. Maybe one day all the boys will live in harmony together, but somehow I think that day is a long way away… Hälsningar till nästa vecka, ------------ About the author: Robin Alan Bell is an Englishman by birth, but migrated to Australia back in '72. Married and divorced there. Spent the last 3 years living by myself on a remote farm in rural New South Wales with no mains electricity, water etc. All power, heating was from natural resources (solar, wind, wood). "Met" a Swedish girl on the internet, came to Sweden for a holiday, loved the place (and the girl), moved to Sweden permanently Christmas 2001 and married the girl in Easter 2002. Living happily ever after... Email Robin Alan Bell: sosoft@ozemail.com.au Comment on this column in the forum. ------------ |
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