Tuesday, September 7, 2010
FASTEST PET LOSING SERVICE IN THE WEST
Did I mention we have a kitten? I think I kind of kept it to myself a little because, well, let’s face it; the Morley’s and animal ownership go together like Ben Cousins and an open bar. We start out with the best of intentions but half way through, just end up being irresponsible arsehats.
Poor Puss the 8yo pound cat, is our latest loss. She just simply got on the one way train to Nowheresville one Sunny November day and we never saw her again.
But now we have Abbey the wonder cat who is about 5 months old. She is still in one piece and has quickly worked out the modus operandi at Chez Morley, attack or be attacked. She’s a little bit mental so she fits in well and all three kids have sufficient scratch marks that evidence their close *ahem* bond. Currently she’s sitting in her favourite spot, my lap having a little snooze. She’s basically just recharging for her middle of the night activities, which include chasing bits of loose Lego around on the timber floors, ripping as many rolls of toilet paper she can get her paws on into teeny, tiny pieces and working herself into a frenzy on the leather couch.
She seems to have conquered the toileting situation and has only had a few indiscretions. She has peed on a few towels just to let us know she can still fuck with us whenever the mood takes her, and there was the incident where she released her own kitty litter from a fresh bag and shat in the centre as a special welcome home surprise for Phil. Sadly I was at work and could only look on fondly at the photo I received via text message. I choose to believe these were accidents and not revenge attacks.
But prior to owning Abbey we tried a bit of “pet sitting”...
The first attempt was Sidney. Now Sidney is about 103. She is a King Charles Cavalier and is both deaf and blind. And she is gorgeous. Her owners went away for Christmas last year and we were entrusted to feed her each day and give her a little pat. How hard could that be? Surely we couldn’t screw that up right? Wrong
Christmas Eve didn’t start out very well in 2009. See, Sid gets scared when she’s left alone. An unknown fact until she was. At night, she barked. And barked. And barked. So we started bringing her over to our house each night to sleep. And she was great. She would go straight to bed, sleep close by and play happily with the kids before returning her home. Christmas Eve morning however, she wandered outside before we got a chance to take her back. No biggy I thought, we’re fully fenced. After about 5 minutes though, things felt eerie. That’s also about the time we noticed the hole that had been freshly dug out under the fence.
Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to hunt down a dog that is both deaf and blind but it is Nye on impossible. Clearly screaming out her name is useless, so the best we could do was silently patrol the streets in our cars, praying to god we wouldn’t have to phone the owners on CHRISTMAS EVE to shatter their Christmas. Guess where she was? After 3 hours of searching high and low, numerous frantic calls to the pound and feeling like I would be physically sick every 3 minutes, we found her at her house. Yep, at her house. Apparently someone found her, rang the owners mobile number on her collar tag and returned her to her yard.
Story Number 2. Abbey is a farm cat, brought here from Charleville. She is the runt of the litter and her sister Smokey, lives directly across the road. Oh, here’s a little bit of a heads up, sister cats separated at six weeks of age, will probably hate each other’s guts when reunited. I have the panicked scratch marks on my forearm to prove this theory. Anyway back to Smokey, the fucking Houdini of the feline world. We were asked by our other neighbours if we could check on them each day, as they were taking off for the long weekend. No problem. Cat and dog. We knew we wouldn’t be making the same mistake with Benny the dog no matter how much he barked. Benny wasn’t the issue. Smokey was. I swear to god this cat is like Cheech of Cheech and Chong. She’s so relaxed she’s almost freaking dead.
On the first day, I went into the massive shed, gave her a scratch, topped up her water and locked two doors behind me. Next thing, I get a text from Mike, our other neighbour saying this: “AREN’T YOU LOOKING AFTER THE SMITHS CAT? SHE’S ON OUR FRONT DRIVEWAY” Faaaaarkkk. I went over, picked her up and took her back. I made sure I looked her in the eyeball as I double locked those two doors behind me AGAIN.
Next morning I went over to check on them and there’s Smokey, lolling around on the front medium strip. I swear to god there was no way she could get out of that garage. None. She’s either David Copperfield in disguise or she’s very handy with a band saw. Good news, she was alive and well when they returned. Bad news, she was sitting on their front porch waiting.
Needless to say, Sids owners have made alternative arrangements for her whilst they take a massive trip overseas. We are however in charge of their mail. Thanks for the second chance Nick & Jen. Surely we can’t balls-up a simple mail collection right?