hiya bucks in Bourne End, Flackwell Heath, Marlow, Wycombe, Wooburn September 2017 | Page 46

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’m writing to you this month from a sunshine holiday in Lanzarote, where of course, the local cats immediately noticed I’d arrived. It seems a recurring feature of my life that wherever I go, cats notice me. They stroll up to me, tail in the air, telling me all their woes in loud and urgent meows. Being an official friend-of-cats, I respond to this by instantly dropping to my knees in the street and dealing with their issues in the only way I know how – and that’s by stroking my new-found friends’ heads, crooning affectionately in a manner very disturbing to anyone but a cat, and offering consolation Dreamies. And yes, I do carry Dreamies in my pocket, even on holiday. Whilst this behaviour is a constant source of embarrassment to my daughter, who’s just reached that age when the terrible realisation hits that her dad is in no way as cool as previously assumed and, contrary to toddler-year-beliefs, cannot and never should dance under any circumstances, it’s much appreciated by cats, who’d probably quite like my dancing. On this particular trip, a large gang of cats regularly patrolled our hotel-complex grounds, looking for tableside handouts, scraps…and me of course. Whilst staff shooed the poor little bewhiskered beggars away, I couldn’t resist welcoming them with open arms and feeding them meat pilfered from the hotel buffet, much to the visible but silent disapproval of the aforementioned staff. It was only after three days of this routine that one of the feral gang-members, a very young jet-black lad that we named Baby-B in recognition of his facial likenesses to the huge beast of a stray named Bodmin who now lives with us back home (the likenesses being constantly bared fangs and a slightly terrifying stare) stood beneath a metal warning-sign awaiting his daily piece of sliced chicken. The sign showed a silhouette picture of a cat with the word ‘NO’ emblazoned in huge letters above its pointy eared head. I’m assuming the hotel weren’t expecting cats to spot the sign, stop dead in their tracks, think ‘hang on, that looks a lot like me – I’d better leave the area immediately’ so had to conclude that the sign was aimed at people like me. How had I not spotted 46 | hiyabucks.com Cat Comforts Cat Sitting Services Flexible, friendly & professional service We visit your cats in their home while you’re away. Fully insured and recommended. T el: 01494 639486 Mobile: [phone] Email: [email protected] www.catcomforts.ukpet.com this sign before? I’d been feeding an ever-growing number of feral cats beneath a big sign telling me not to do exactly that, for three days. No wonder the staff liked me so much. My feeding routine had to change. I decided I’d store my stolen food supplies in our hotel room’s fridge until nightfall. At around 11pm on day 4, my wife, daughter and I silently made our way to the poolside area the cats resided in. Well I say silently…they were silent, but I tripped over three sun-loungers, walked headfirst into a palm tree and almost fell in the pool, but then I had spent most of the previous two hours in the hotel bar. When we finally arrived to feed our feline friends, we got a bit of a surprise. There wasn’t a cat to be seen. We scoured the entire area, calling and cooing, but not one furry little head popped up above any rock or from behind any bush. It was as if the whole lot had vanished into thin air. The next morning they were all back - every single one of them. That night though, when we again attempted a Commando-style feeding raid, they were all gone again. Discreet enquiries made to a hotel staff member who didn’t yet know me well enough to dislike me led us to a startling and quite wonderful discovery about where the cats of Playa Blanca, Lanzarote, go at night. It’s called the Cat Bridge, and I’ll tell you all about it next month…