Joared, who reads this thin patch of the web from the States, recently enquired after the welfare of Lady Voledoomcat, who had a bit of a fright the other day. Well, the good news is that she’s very much her old self, but a bit more wary about going out than previously; this will wear off with time and the start of the vole-hunting season, which almost certainly coincides with the clocks having gone forward last night. We think that Popoff, the fluffy cat from next door, was the one who gave Lady V a hard time – being a rescue cat Popoff is a bit of a hard nut to her feline kind beneath the furry and human-friendly exterior. One of the measures we have taken to restore Lady V’s confidence is to move her food and water to the hearth in the lounge and away from the front vestibule (as a lobby is known north of the border) where it is vulnerable to opportunistic raids by other moggies through the CatFlap.
I suppose I ought to explain the appellation Popoff – the cat was named Poppy when she arrived next door but soon absented herself for four weeks, leaving her new mum in some distress, but later reappeared and has settled down in her new home. PTC, being a cynical sort, promptly renamed her in celebration of her disappearance act.