hiya bucks Amersham, Beaconsfield, Chesham, Gerrards Cross, Missenden April 2015 | Page 20

Confessions of a Cat Sitter Chris Pascoe is the author of A Cat Called Birmingham & You Can Take the Cat Out of Slough, and a columnist for various UK & international magazines. He’s also a cat sitter… I often stop and think what a great job I have. It may not be especially well paid, but as an out and out cat lover, I really can’t think of any better way to spend your days than visiting a succession of friendly, affectionate cats. And, I have to say that, while some are confident, some are shy, some are cautious, some are bright, some are dopey, all the cats on my client list have always been truly great to know. Then I met Miranda. Miranda is a three year old tabby, but closer in size to a six month old kitten. Giant eyes and a permanently startled expression add to an overall cute kitten appearance. As cute as Miranda looks though, she quickly proved to be one of my deadliest adversaries. Now, that’s just plain wrong, isn’t it? I should surely be lovingly caring for the cats in my charge, shouldn’t I? Pampering them, petting them, feeding them… just generally ensuring their overall happiness and well being. Not referring to them as deadly adversaries? And certainly not fighting them? Miranda gave me little choice in the matter. Her owners had warned me that she could be ‘a little feisty’, but when I’d collected keys, she’d been a gentle purring little ball of fur. Her owner had cradled her in her arms, and Miranda had happily pushed her face into my outstretched hand. ‘Feisty?’ I thought, ‘Pah! That’s not feisty – that’s just fluffy!’ When I arrived at Miranda’s two days later, I bent down Cat Comforts Cat Sitting Services Flexible, friendly & professional service We visit your cats in their home while you’re away. Fully insured and recommended. Tel: 01494 639486 Mobile: 07782 632814 Email: [email protected] www.catcomforts.ukpet.com 20 to say hello, stretching my hand out, expecting her to affectionately nuzzle her little face into it once again. I just didn’t see that paw coming. There was a hiss, a blur of motion, and then searing pain across my fingers. A second claw closed in fast and suddenly I had a small tabby attached to me, all four claws embedded in my arm while sharp teeth sunk into my hand. I couldn’t think of anything useful to say, so I just said ‘OUCH’ and sunk to my knees. The sinking to the knees bit was a bit over-dramatic, I know, but I think it looked quite good. The main purpose of the maneuver, however, was to get down to Miranda’s level rather than have her dangling in mid-air, gradually tearing my flesh off. It was also an easier position in which to extricate her from my arm. Once free, I walked slowly to the kitchen, quietly mumbling soothing words over my shoulder, while conscious of low growling sounds behind me. I reached the cat food cupboard and stretched up to grab a tin of Felix. ‘Miranda’ I called ‘Dinner!’. Miranda seemed to agree, but it wasn’t Felix she had in mind. A thump against the back of my leg told me hostilities were rapidly escalating. The claws in my calf confirmed this. Ever tried to remove a cat from the back of your leg? Firstly, I turned around sharply. This proved a bit of a failure, because Miranda obviously remained behind me. Not one to learn from my mistakes, I attempted two more turns. Anybody witnessing the event through a window would have seen a large man twirling across the kitchen floor with a cat attached to his leg, like a feline / fat bloke version of Strictly Come Dancing. As I stumbled into the lounge I revised my plans – dancing with Miranda wasn’t going to solve this, and it also hurt quite a lot. I sunk to the sofa, carefully keeping my leg raised so not to squash her and, after a little more bloodletting, removed her for a second time. Over the next few days, using all the knowledge gained from my ten years cat sitting, I employed a carefully planned system of coat and glove-wearing, careful eye contact, extremely slow and quiet movement, and various ‘cunning’ distraction techniques. This all totally failed of course. By day four, though, Miranda seemed to get bored of biting me - probably deciding I was no match for her. Now, after 10 days with Miranda, I can happily add her to my aforementioned list of very likeable clients! I won’t be visiting in shorts any time soon though… To advertise in ^XH