hiya bucks in Bourne End, Flackwell Heath, Marlow, Wycombe, Wooburn June 2015 | Page 44

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… Every now and then, I visit houses that I’m not entirely ‘comfortable’ in. Don’t get me wrong, I certainly make myself comfortable wherever I go, spending much of my working day sitting on big sofas with cups of tea in hand and resident VIFs (Very Important Felines) purring happily on my lap. But it’s not the working conditions I feel uncomfortable with – it’s occasionally the houses themselves. Visiting big old creaky 17th Century houses on dark windy nights can set the nerves tingling just a little. Rocky Smith totally agrees with me. Rocky’s family recently moved house and, having lived his entire life in a small modern apartment building, Rocky was quite surprised to suddenly find himself living in a huge house exactly fitting the above description. And, while his new spooky living arrangements put me on edge, it was nothing compared to the effect they had on Rocky. Due to a total mess-up in house-move timings, the Smith family departed on their winter skiing holiday only two days after taking up residence in their new home, leaving Rocky and I to our own devices. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that first visit. Rocky greeted me at the door and we walked slowly together through the dimly lit lounge, rain hammering on the windows and beams creaking overhead. The wind chose that very moment to howl down the chimney with such gusto that I felt like jumping for cover. Rocky, 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: [phone] Mobile: [phone] Email: [email protected] www.catcomforts.ukpet.com 44 on the other hand, had no reservations whatsoever and did indeed jump for cover, all four paws leaving the ground at once as he jumped clean over the sofa and headfirst into a standard lamp. Then, upon realising that there now appeared to be no immediate danger, and that he may just have overdone things a little, he began studiously washing – the last recourse of the embarrassed cat. We resumed our journey to the kitchen, at which point I discovered a rocking floorboard, so loose that Rocky’s end, 3 feet behind me, lifted him 6 inches in the air to the accompaniment of a loud rasping CREAK! Rocky showed much more poise this time – skidding round so rapidly to escape that his back legs shot sideways beneath him and he rolled into a coffee table. The resultant washing ceremony would have gone better had the chimney not offered a further ghostly howl. As we continued our journey, I pretended not to notice the clump of his own fur dangling from his mouth. We reached the kitchen and switched on the lights – reassuringly bright lights - bathing the room in a warm glow. We’d made it. I served Rocky’s dinner and filled his water bowl. I’ve no idea why I filled his water bowl - I’m sure most cats take a solemn vow at birth to ignore them entirely and instead drink from any tap, glass, toilet or puddle available. In this case, the slowly dripping tap caught Rocky’s eye, and he jumped onto the sink for a drink. The curse of old houses wasn’t done with us yet though. With a sudden unexpected thud, the plumbing shook the entire sink unit and a surprise deluge of cold water shot straight into Rocky’s upturned face. It had been a bad first visit. But I’m happy to say that as I write this, a week later, Rocky is the VIF purring happily on my lap. He’s quickly grown to love exploring his new home, and seems to have settled in perfectly. We don’t mention the kitchen tap though. If you ever meet Rocky, don’t mention the tap. To advertise in Hiya Bucks text or call 07947 349134