“The cats are out…”

 

“But not tended to” was the notice I found on the chalk board this morning.

 

That had me really thinking – so often those poor cats are no longer “tended to”.

When my younger son and I brought them home over 6 years ago they spent the first winter in, were loved, cuddled and catered to by the then-three-sometimes-four people living in the house.

 

Over the years some have moved out, others have moved in and for one glorious period when “my” student was here they got lots of attention. In fact they never had it so good as during confinement since Covid as she willingly let them sit on her lap all day, every day.

Imagine she got her first job, went to the office for like a week then has had to work from home ever since.

 

When I broke my shoulder several years back I had to take to shutting them in the cellar for nights. Now before animal lovers get up in arms, they were in a two-room space, three if you count the laundry room where their food and toilet is; the office has a space heater underneath the wooden desk that they will happily lay on all day and night (even if it doesn’t suit me), they each have a cosy, pillow-lined basket and should they need to stretch they can race in and out of the office, the filing room, the corridor, up and down the steps and into the laundry room as well.  It was simply that they refused to understand that my broken and pinned shoulder could no longer serve as their personal cushion!

 

Since then they are let out in the morning, food supplies, water and the kitty litter changed and if it’s me a treat is given.

 

We have a chalk slate in the entry as younger son still living here and there is the odd need for a message and especially for either of us to write “in” or “out” so that the other knows who’s around.

 

I liked today’s message: I tended to the poor babies!

 

 

They've even been known to share the same basket!