We've been gripped by some sense of normality for weeks now. No catches, no unpleasant early morning surprises. What passes for cold weather in these globally warmed times has started and that's meant more lap residence.

A Week in the Country

We had a week in the wind and the rain. The cat-flap is now in the back door of the country retreat (at some pain to the builder who I'm sure views it as a good door ruined). Obviously we had every expectation that the house would be filled with mice. In fact he was reasonably abstemious; two on the first evening and two on the last. Each comprising of a one dead (gnawed) and an one alive (released). In fact the second brace were clearly voles - long pointy, hairless noses otherwise covered in grey/black velvet fur. They were quite beautiful and he's been suitably admonished.

And he has another trick too. Despite being restricted to the kitchen overnight, he has worked out that via the garage roof (well, timbers anyway, it's still not built), he can get onto our first floor bedroom window sill. There to miaow in the early morning. First time we were impressed and let him in and he settled immediately and slept late with us. Subsequently it's been a device to get us up for an early breakfast. So now we heartlessly leave him out there - with the double glazing and the covers over your ears you can hardly hear him...

Catching up

There have been quite a few developments and I've slipped behind.

Party People

We had a big do. Well big for us, where we fed about twenty people buffet style with everyone milling around in the kitchen (as they always tend to do). We expected Binks to beat a quick retreat, either upstairs or over the gardens but no. We had his platform put slightly out of the way (as much as anything else) but over to our side, away from the main throng. The result was that he maintained position on that - with a careful eye on the proceedings, happy to countenance even close approaches as longs as they didn't try to pick him up. I do think he's getting better with people.

Guests in the Country

And he had ample chance to prove this a few days later. We had a country weekend with guests. One of them is extremely fond of cats and wouldn't take shyness on Binks' part as an excuse. She employed the tried and trusted method of delivering cat biscuits on demand and gained a decent measure of friendship in return. Not quite completely; we stayed a day longer and as soon as they were gone he went out and caught us a mouse having been noticeably reticent ealier. And then another. We had to keep him in before we were inundated. Both escaped alive. I'll add them all up one day.

The Cat Hotel

Then there was our holiday. Binks got to stay in the cat hotel we got to go to Catalunya. We took him his platform to which he always turns for comfort and left him for ten days. The set-up was very efficient; each cat having a well sized run with a solid barrier at ground level and a closed area with transparent door. Favourite food supplied of course.

I must admit to be a little worried when we collected him; scared that he'd hold it against us but I'm glad to say he was pleased as punch to see us. More so than any of our previous cats who were perhaps more manipulative and noticeable grumped for a not inconsiderable time thereafter.

Rats Again

Then rats. Not immediately but first there was the neat pile of remains one morning. A head, a tail, two (back) feet and a unknown internal organ - well unidentifiable by me anyway. This is a bit worrying. There's the concern he'll get a poisoned one and also he'll get worms. Actually, that's almost certain.

Two days later there was a squeak as we sat listening to music late one evening. I looked up only to see Binks retreating from the living room. Downstairs in the kitchen he was toying with the still live rat. Smallish, but a rat nevertheless. I was concerned about getting bitten (and infected) so I got him and prey out the cat-flap. The rat escaped the jaws for a moment and was holding out behind cover in the garden. We tempted Binks in with biscuits and the rat cowered. We kept him in overnight and early next day I went out to check; the rat was dead, having moved only a few feet from where I saw it last. That casts doubt on some of the survivor statistics for the mice I guess. A day later he was nursing a wound in the cheek. I'm not sure if it was cat fight or rat bite; I think the latter is more likely. Maybe he'll leave them alone. I'm glad to say that it appears to be healing OK.

The Case of the Disappearing Cat

In order not to frighten the guests by live mice (or a naked Chris) running round the bedrooms in the middle of the night, Mr Binks was locked in the kitchen for the night with no access to outside. Awake by 7:30 I decided to go down and give him his freedom, only to find two guests already in kitchen indicating that although they hadn't seen the cat they thought they had heard a faint mewing and thought he was up with us. Logically he must still be in the kitchen, all doors were shut and there was no furniture he could hide under.

So where was he?

The only cupboard he had shown an interest in was the one under the sink with access to the back of the kitchen units, certainly a mouse hunting ground, but the door was shut. However, when you have excluded the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. So I opened the door. There sat Binks in the washing-up bowl. With a plaintiff mew and a single bound he was free, to wait by his biscuit bowl for breakfast. Looking back he must have pulled at the door till it opened enough for him to wedge it with his head and then body. Once in, the door has one of these hinges which snap it shut once it is nearly closed. Unfortunately it doesn't say much for his intelligence that he did not realise he only needed to push against it to get out again.

It's been while so I thought I'd try a bring you up to date. First off the catch details; two weekends in the country and each yielded the same; three mice. One deceased and one brought to the bedroom in, to all intents and purposes, the middle of the night. The remaining one seems to have escaped whilst being carried across the kitchen. On weekend one it got behind the fitted kitchen. This meant Binks was obliged to sit behind the units for long periods to no avail. We didn't see the critter. That is until Sunday morning when studying the papers, out it popped and made a bee-line for the wood-pile. We fooled it into a paper bag and arranged its release. Binks? He was asleep upstairs the whole time.

We had guests last weekend and they were most amused. The escapee was under the sofa this time or more accurately, clinging to the upholstery at the back. It was a simple matter to pull the furniture away from the wall and prod the cowering creature into the paper carrier bag. We're getting quite good at this. And there were birds too - in London. Both midweek; first time a wren which seemed to escape and Tuesday, a young blackbird. The latter was pursued by its parent, screeching. All this at about 10:00pm. Binks is quite willing to release his prey - it seems a sure thing that they're for us - and I managed to get the bird into yet another paper carrier after it wouldn't or couldn't fly away. I released it around the front where the blackbirds congregate. Binks didn't seem interested in going out again once we had our present.

Insecta

As I have a feeling 'Red, in Tooth and Claw' could run and run, let's call a halt though, in the interests of accuracy, we may have to keep discreet count of the wildlife in order to verify or defuse the statistics widely promulgated.

So it's a single mouse, tiny and alive although traumatised. I think that the field mice/voles freeze when disturbed as a defence against their more usual predators, hawks. I didn't hold out much hope for this one as it seemed paralysed even after a chance to recover in a paper cup. But on release to the wild it was gone within ten minutes. I don't think we should count the escapees.

But down to insects. We have to be honest - he has fleas. All these seem to come from visits to the country and they may not be cat fleas. They are relatively easy to pick off his ears as there is very little fur there and they stand out against the white. Maybe the fleas parasitise the voles. Most likely they live in the long grass waiting for a passing warm blooded creature (though I havn't been bitten myself and cat fleas really like me). If it stays like this - easy to control manually - we needn't treat him with chemicals. I'm glad to note that they don't seem to affect him as badly as some cats.

And Moths. Last night he brought in a rather beautiful moth. At least it had been once. It was clear-winged and so almost certainly a Narrow or Broad Banded Bee Hawkmoth. This is not the first moth he's brought back, an Old Lady appeared a month ago or so - he seems only to bring the large ones indoors. Both were nominally alive and although I put them out into the garden, I didn't hold out as much hope for them as I do the mice.

Moths are well represented on the web; the pictures above come from UK Moths which is excellent. For hawkmoths there is the marvellous, authorative yet somehow eccentric, Sphingidae of the Western Palaearctic. He doesn't have pictures for the Narrow Bordered Bee Hawk but there are pictures for the Broad along with intimidatingly precise information.

Red, in Tooth and Claw (III)

Ah. Spoke too soon.

This morning it was a rat. Dead. By the kitchen door to the stairs. The looks to have been a certain amount of disruption upstairs in the front room on the rug. These are not pictures I particularly want to fix so let's move on.

We've never really had a cat that caught rats before (let's not kid ourselves, in London they say on average you're only ever twenty feet away from one). It's just that unless instructed, cats don't catch - much less kill - rats. According to Roger Tabor's The Wild Life of the Domestic Cat they have to be taught to catch and kill them by their mothers and only a small proportion do so even then (preferring human handouts to the danger of killing a biting creature with your teeth). I wonder, where did he learn?

Red, in Tooth and Claw (II)

This post got delayed so the final toll could be established.

Last weekend was at the country venue and on Saturday morning we discovered a mouse outside the front door - dead. Binks ingored it and so did we - slightly wrong-footed to find ourselves with no means of burying it. That state of affairs persisted until he tried to take it indoors. That was an easier experience compared to the live one he brought to the bedroom in the early hours of next morning.

Curiously he didn't seem to mind attempts to take it off him or even being summarily dumped in the bathroom. There's virtually no furniture in the room I'm glad to say because, though starting near the door, the mouse ran away from it and around the perimeter. There was nowhere to hide and pursued by two humans it completed the circuit and was out the door and down the landing. Eventually, at the top of the stairs, I caught up with it and fooled it into a carrier bag. Mouse thus captured I dressed with brevity and wandered outside blinking in the early dawn to release it away from the house.

Binks was released from the Bathroom. He didn't seem to mind - it clearly takes a lot to upset him. He took a few sniffs at the spot where he had released it and then settled on the bed for the rest of the morning. The whole episode seems to reinforce the idea that he only catches them for us.

Back to London and on Monday morning the front room is carpeted in feathers. This time from an unfortunate blackbird. Is he glad to be back and this is a present? Every morning since, the first of us down has looked hesitantly around the door in the front room (where they're found according to current modus operandii) but fortunately we've not seen any more.

Red, in Tooth and Claw
We more than half expected that this would happen but the 'mouse' incident may have led us into a false sense of comfort.

This morning we came down to a house filled with feathers. Pigeon feathers it seems for the remains of the poor creature were in the front room. But there was evidence on two more floors - CSI would have had field day (but I'm glad to say, no bugs as far as I could tell). Binks was pleased as punch and has seemed even more vocal and assertive since.

We had thought that a white cat (with a bit of black) would be warning enough but maybe not.

The Longest Day

Today was always going to be be difficult.

Last solstice I, we really, lost Eric our cat of seventeen years. During that time - a period that eclipses all but a few of my friends and even Jean and me, Eric and his sister had been my companions. Jean brought Samson, her own cat with her and for many years we were three cat household, at least one (and probably two) more than the unbiased thought decent. They grew old and two of them died in 1998; Eric was the tontine cat. In his last year he was not well and was blind for the last fifteen months.

I could see this coming for weeks but nothing looks good on the page - either sentimental or mawkish - and the real experience was neither. I'd just like to give some measure to our decision to adopt another cat and what he means to us.

Hurrah! New Cat Diary comes of age

I chased the links through Google today and there is one. After a bit of work with the advanced search (which seems to require the full filename) I found,

Tuesday, April 23, 2002
look what was in the recently updated queue when I logged out of Blogger!....... and I had to log back in just to tell you about it...
posted by comatose kid at 4:10 PM archived

Unfortunately.. That dates from when the link (at 'look') was to .htm before I got the server side includes working (*.shtm) and so the link will be broken. Also comatose kid has moved and doesn't have his archives working. So the link has vanished but it was a nice sentiment. I wonder if it was the 'brinkster.com' / Binkster thing that so attracted him? Maybe not - he seems a regular cat guy and a much better photographer of felines than me...

As a coda to that, the Kid has just got his archives working so maybe I could get him to correct the link...

"That cat's fallen over again"

I kind of like this shot. I know it's out of focus and all, but it has the right feel for when he comes up to you. That's par for the course if you're attempting to do anything on the floor like read a newspaper. The photo comes out of one of those very-mini digital cameras you can get at Tesco. (I'm glad I wasn't expecting too much as the quality is not very good though the convenience and the concept is fun.)

He's really the most laid-back cat when he's around us but nervous as anything with other people. Now that something approaching summer is here, the neighbours are out in their garden most evenings and that's enough to put him off going out. The result is that he semi-mopes around the house. He's fine when you're playing but not when you're busy with anything else. The result is 'cat help'. Eventually this tires, well pretty soon reslly and he has to lie down. There appears to be nowhere he won't choose and anytime he comes in from outside it seems to be as much as he's able to to get to us before flopping.

Happy Birthday!

Binks is one - today. I'm not sure if that's a real birthday but that's the one he's stuck with now. It appears on his rehoming forms but conforms very much to the estimate of 'seven months old' back-dated from when we adopted him.

I think he deserves a catnip mouse.

Off the Mark

Mr. Binks celebrated the Jubilee by catching his first mouse. Well, it looked very much like a Meadow Vole (Field Mouse) to me - this was in the wilds of Suffolk.

We had driven out for a half hour or so and on our return found him unmoving in the normal car park spot. In front of his outstretched paws was a small dark brown bundle. He made no move when I came over to pick it up. It seemed unhurt - as they usually do - but was shaking with fear and squeaked tremulously. I placed it near the undergrowth about ten yards away - Binks made no attempt to follow me.

It hadn't moved fifteen minutes later, trembling still, but a little after that it had gone. I hope it was a learning experience. I'm almost certain it was a Vole, the identification guide (a Canadian site it is true but by far the best I could find) convinced me that the short tail and blunt nose indicates that, I wish I had payed more attention to its ears.

Binks has been subsequently unmoved by this coming of age. Maybe he just hopes we were delighted with our gift - it was clearly presented to us.

Country Living

It was a good weekend. We did the country thing.

We made a mournful visit to see our friends who lost their cat (below). I still didn't know how to talk about it. There's the scare behind the accident that haunts all cat (and pet) owners and as can be imagined, with her looking out for the remaining kitten, heightened to extreme . It was a week ago now and at night so the surviving one is confined to quarters after dark now. I don't know how long that will last; there's a fine line between denying your cat its freedom and what makes it cat and looking out for its safety.

Anyway, I'm glad to say they're taking it better, more rationally, constructively, than I might have done. That will be good for the future, for the remaining cat and if they do get him a playmate - which I think they will - them as well.

The Suffolk countryside was vivid and this period of late spring / early summer has brought back the scrubbed light that seems to so characterise the area (to me at least). Binks is gradually getting better at the whole thing; travelling, settling in and going out on his own. It's still noticeable that he prefers the city but I think we're breaking down his resistance.

I learnt today that a close friend has lost one of her cats.

Her kittens were a month or so younger than Binks although they had been with her a little longer. They were brothers. On Saturday one of them was hit by a car and killed.

I called Jean up as soon as I got the email this morning. I couln't really frame the reply - I hope we'll be able to see them this weekend. I have a mental picture of the remaining kitten, inconsolable and not understanding of the loss of his brother. Our friend is riven by her own emotions and thoughts; should she try to get a partner for him? Is that just like treating her cats as commodities? I don't know what to say to her.

Jean and I spoke about them both as Binks played in lunatic fashion this morning; there were games we were going to try with them to see if it were our cat or all cats. It seems unreal now.

Back to Normal

I'm glad to say that he's shrugged off the sneezes.

It's all a bit of a mystery; he doesn't seem to get fully fledged cold symptoms but he clearly couldn't breathe properly and wheezed slightly - every bit like hay-fever. Searches for allergies didn't throw up much but one colleague of Jean's said that she pulled up all the yellow flowers in her garden in similar circumstances.

It didn't get him out of being taken to the country either. He had a mixed weekend there; good journeys, keen to explore the night we arrived but very tentative to go out during the day. That was especially true of Sunday when he hardly went out at all until just before midnight. It was a noisy day and windy throughout and that may be what he likes least of all. He's very much a city cat and would trade bushes and grass for a wall to perch upon any day. On Saturday night he was up on the neighbour's flat roof, actually, even above it. For he landed with a thump - he's not the most delicate descender anyhow - from the pitched tiles above the extension they use as their kitchen. I'm glad they were in bed, even so, they must have wondered exactly what it was.

Binks is getting better with people too. He doesn't really take to them, even 'cat people' but at least he was civil to my mum this time. And guests on Monday even got to play the string game with him (that's where he holds the balled end and you shake him with the other). They felt highly honoured.

Poorly Again

Yes, he's snuffling again.

It started on Saturday, five days ago - one moment he was sleeping while we read the papers and suddenly he was sneezing. He was still full of beans and after a bit of nose-wrinkling and washing, the sneezes got less frequent. Sunday he was much better but still sneezing occasionally. That made us think is was like last time when he had a sneezy few hours and no relapse. I've never known a cat to sneeze more than once or twice, ever, let alone many time is succession. It didn't seem to effect him and his eyes were still clear so we'd said we'd just monitor.

But he was much the same yesterday and now his eyes were watering slightly. We had investigated allergies but my guess is that he's got a cold. Curiously we've both been down with the same, Jean this week and myself about a fortnight ago. Of course he could be making a pre-emptive strike against a long weekend in the country. But it's all just a little bit worrying and a visit to the vets is in the offing.

Just another day

Where to start? At the beginning I guess.

We're all supposed to be going on holiday. In fact we were bound for the country today. Actually make that yesterday or even the day before. We can't blame the Binkster for the first two days delay but today... We were finally packed, almost. His nibs had yet to be introduced to the carrier and we were just packing foodstuffs from the refridgerator (to give you an idea of the lateness of the exercise) when we notice his paw.

It looks as if he's wearing an oven mitt.

We call the vets. They can see him in four hours or we can go to the emergency centre. We monitor. Curiously it seems as if he's oblivious to the injury. He's walking alomost without a limp despite one foot being almost three times the size of the other. It seems to get no worse, he washes it but not obsessively, he lets us examine it. Four hours go by and we go to the vets.

The antipodean vet (and pasty faced student) call for an x-ray. He can feel something at the elbow. He is suprised at the swelling and concerned. The x-rays seem a day or two away until we mention that we can go elsewhere as we're off with Mr. Binks. The vet consults schedule and says he can do the x-rays now. We leave without a cat.

Ninety minutes later we call, he's coming round and the vet needs to talk with us. But on arrival the receptionist wants to book another visit in five days time - we hope for the best. Indeed, immediately we're in the consulting room the vet says nothing is broken and we go through the radiographs together. He has beautiful feet.

So what was wrong? An insect bite is the prevailing theory - quite possible. It's warm in the sun and there are a few early bees about. He goes in and out so quickly it's hard to know when he might have done it.

Anyway, that wasn't quite it. As there was no food in the house (we were overdue two days now by anyone's reckoning) we went out for a curry. After making sure that Binks was settled on the sofa of course. On our return we were greeted at the front door. Far from being subdued by his experience, he had, for the first time ever, worked out the way round the street from the back garden to the front. And even found his own door - or else recognised our voices over the roar of the tracffic as we walked up.

And that wasn't quite it either. After being rewarded with a few more biscuits he was out the back carousing with the cat from two doors down. You could see him in the gloom, a white patch balancing on top of a thin garden trellis, ten feet up. Still swollen foot and all.

We're all going to the vets tomorrow..

In fact we've been really. It was the innoculation visit.

We left the rescue with Mr. B just starting the regime. I thought it was because they were cheapskates but animals have to have some preparation of their immune systems (humans too for all I know), so the jabs he had were good only for 3-4 weeks. As those may have brought on some mild 'flu like symptoms we were a bit concerned. [Diversion: there seems to be a backlash against vaccinations at the moment in England: there are all the indications that hysteria is breaking out about MMR for children. When I spoke about Binks to a colleague I could tell from her vehemence that this was the agenda despite her confining comments to cats]

But Binks seems to have had far less trouble with this set than the previous and though he may have been a touch below par yesterday - about the same number of days as after the preparatory innoculations - he's back to normal fun and games.

That was another 40GBP to his account (to be added to 60 'donation' for his release, 20 food so far and 30 for the climbing frame). he's also been insured at 5.75GBP per month. I once knew a man who said 'a dog or a cat cost a thousand pounds over its lifetime' and expected the observation to surprise. I think he must have updated his estimates by now.

Wet Weekend

The east coast was not for the faint-hearted. Or hat wearers.

This is much later than I wanted but I'm glad to say not an indication of anything amiss. Binks only got to go out very briefly before the weather closed in on the Sunday (Saturday was uniformly grim) so he's still very much an indoor cat. In fact I'm getting a little worried about the inevitable time when he does gain control over his own comings and goings but that's a little way off, we have to get over escorting him first.

He acquitted himself very well throughout; after only complaining mildly during the early part of the (two hour) journey, he settled down very well. And quiet too. Likewise when he got to the cottage settling into the new geography well. He seems harder to discipline here; at home we've managed to stop him getting up onto work surfaces with some success but in the country it is another matter.

New Adventures

He's been in the wars again.

Last weekend saw him with a dodgy eye. One evening late on, he appeared with his left eye partially shut. It seemed not to bother him much but over the next day or so it wept slightly. It was back to normal by Monday. That same day some clue to how it mught have happened occurred; he races everywhere and shot into the computer room (glorified junk room), across the entire flor and ran straight into the leg of the chair I was sitting on. I could feel the reverberations - cats must have hard skulls (or more likely, great shock absorbers). I guess his eye was the result of a similar collision or jabbing himself with one of the unravelled strands from the twine he plays with.

He still hasn't been outside. We were going to abbreviate the 'in for three weeks' diktat but last weekend was miserable during daylight hours so we delayed our intentions. This weekend will be adventure time when we go to the country. There's a two hour car journey to look forward to, no doubt with constant comment from the basket. I'll feel happier about letting him wander (though observed for the time being) away from the London traffic. He's still obstinate and won't come to his name though he clearly recognises the call and he very occasionally takes fright of his surroundings and panics.

It figures to be an interesting weekend

Flying Cat

I'm glad to say Mr. Binks is very much back to rights.

In fact he's moved into overdrive and is running around the house about four feet off the ground. He's been pretty quick to learn - though not always observe - the house rule of no cats on the kitchen worksurfaces. He eats all the time and has developed a plaintive cry as if he can't believe you haven't fot up, moved to the door etc. just to feed him. I hope his voice breaks - it's still very kittenish, he won't want to sound like that allhis life.

He has run of the house now at night as well as during the day. We took pity on him last Sunday when he was poorly and let him sleep on the bed. He seems to get up about 4am and go downstairs, returning at the first vestiges of light which is currently around 7am - the time I should get up. Not much fun on the weekends though - we'll see if we can tire him out but it looks a tall order.

Snuffles

The weekend was not without worry.

On Friday Mr. Binks developed a cough. At first this seemed mechanical; he rushes around the kitchen, ever eagre to find out what's going on even while he's eating. That he had inhaled a bit of food during this didn't seem surprising. He sort of dry coughed a bit but it didn't slow him down and next morning it more or less gone, certainly by midday. But on Sunday he started to sneeze.

All the indications seemed to be that he had cat flu. This is something he had been inculated against on the previous Sunday - the day we took him home - with dead vaccine. There had been conversation about this; it's supposedly safer than the live vaccines but no comment was made on its effectiveness. He kept his spirits until late on Sunday when he started to sleep a lot more though a far cry from retiring completely. He was sneezing less yesterday and I'm glad to say, less again today.

Does he have something? The sites on the subject (Feline Advisory Bureau one of the best all round) don't give any indication of incubation times. So the unlikely case of him getting it from the rescue (he hasn't been outside yet) is matched by the unlikely possibility of it being trigured by the vaccine. There's always the vets - he has insurance after all - but as things are moving in the right direction and nursing care for viral infections is very much keep hydrated, fed and warm, we'll wait a while.

Introducing…

Thanks to a colleague's lend of a digital camera the least bad of my attempts is here.

Binks' confidence grows. He's fascinated by everything with particular favourites being the fish and us and must be where anyathing is going on or might happen. He managed to get between the dishwasher and the cabinet last night - a gap that seemed only about three inches wide. We didn't panic and after a minute or two he re-appeared covered in fluff.

White cats, well… He was pristine in his pen at the rescue but since scurrying around our house his paws have gone greyer and greyer. Some of that must be cat-litter but despite an outing for the vacuum cleaner before his arrival (so not to scare him subsequently) I guess our house isn't as dust-free as we think.

Wasps

Mr. Binks continues to explore.

We are to keep him indoors for three weeks or so. Initial instructions were to allow him to calm down in a single room, 'not the kitchen or a communal room'. That leaves a bathroom? A bedroom? All equipped with trays and water? So that didn't last long. For safety reasons he is currently confined to the kitchen overnight and when we're out. Monday was the first day we all went into (nearly) every room together for a sniff. Now he's getting the hang of counting the floors and working out where is. There have been the occasionally scary moments when he's looked out a long way over the four flight drop or jumped up on the banister (which must only be two to two and a half inches wide) at the 'top of the house'. He can perch on very narrow ledges but isn't completely footsure, falling off th every narrowest sills.

He's ever conscious of missing out on something and keeps very much to where we are. I was delighted when arriving home near midnight yesterday, he came down stairs to greet me. Or possible to have a chance at getting outside. Jean says he heard me jangle keys before they got into the lock. Indeed his hearing seems prodigous; he perks up to the fish in the aquarium moving small stones or rustles of feet in socks. he seems visually acute as well (one endearing moment at the rescue was when inspecting the cat-who-wouldn't-come-out, we turned round to see, through two panes of glass and about ten feet, our actions being keenly observed by Binks).

And he's found more dead wasps than I thought there were in the house. Two to date; he was playing with them. The best toys are always the ones you make yourself.

Power restored during the day

Candles

Last night had its own theatre. Just as dinner went into the oven the lights went out and we've had no power since 9:00pm. That meant candles and despite our attentiveness Binks has a few scorched whiskers and a valuable lesson for minimum cost. He's learning fast; not to be on the work surfaces and table (though that is hard to resist as it supplies a great vantage point for the aquarium) and to leave the furniture in favour of the new scratch post.

That arraived yesterday evening and was a great purchase. None of our cats every had one before but we noted it as 'No. 1' in the Christmas presents for pets. Binks took to it immediately and means that the designers have got it to a tee or he had one before rescue. That casts some doubt on the put-out-on-the-street disgnosis - perhaps the charities like to talk up the horrors of their charge's previous lives to prick the consciences of those who might adopt. But then again, perhaps the see and hear of too many real horrors.

The top platform seems to be the only area Binks protects as his own, adminstering the warning bite without pressure to reprimand too much liberty being taken when he's there - attentions he allows anywhere else.

The power cut derailed my attempt to get pictures. I've taken some and they're terrible; blurred and badly exposed but I'll post when I've got electricity.

What's in a Name?

Somewhat belatedly I've been checking 'Mister Binks' on the Internet for unfortunate connotations. There was a close shave with 'Mr. Bigglesworth', Dr. Evil's (hairless) cat in 'Austin Powers'. Fortunately there are no hideously embarrassing associations with the name - well none discovered to date. 'Mr. Binks' throws up a slew of references for an award winning German Shepherd who seems to have sired half the dog population of Australia. And a budgie fancier which, judging from early actions at the kitchen window, our Binks may have more in common.

So why Binks? I don't know, it came to me and it stuck. I guess the 'Mister' will get dropped apart from on the vet's records. At the sanctuary he was 'Fata'. The best guide to where that came from must be our observation of a stray young German Shepherd (coincidentally) being admitted. The finder was asked for a name, "Foxy we call him" only to be told they already had a Foxy, so facing blank looks all round he was taken under the finder's name. Binks was a stray too and his form said he had been owned (as opposed to feral) and was found in the street brought in by a 'driver'; most likely one of the charities (RSPCA etc.) I guess rather than a cabbie though no-one seemed to know. Anyway, if that's the case, Fata we thank you.

Binks is in the process of tearing the place apart. Which seems to be par for the course for a 7-month old. He was attentive in his pen but still. He was clearly saving his energy for when he got a run up. Quite the fastest thing on four paws I've seen for a long time, he skids around the smooth floors in alarming fashion and has a straight line apporach to all journeys. It's quite amazing how he can run over a sofa without breaking stride. Our decision to go back the day after we saw him meant that we are without scratching posts - that may cost our furniture dear.

Other than the pocket whirlwind effect, all other aspects of settling in are going well; eating, drinking and litter tray managent with no problems.

One observation about the re-homing process. We considered pedigree cats and informally contacted several breeders. More than half of them (especially Abyssinians) would not sell us kittens because we intended to let them out. Quite the opposite at the Mayhew - they virtually would not release animals (special circumstances such as FIV and elderly cats) to homes with no access to the outside. No catflap = home visit it seemed.

Mr. Binks came home today.

The New Year's resolution not to remain catless reached critical mass very quickly. On Saturday we went to the animal welfare (Mayhew in North-West London) to 'take a look at them and have them take a look at us'. We found them a charity doing a good job in the circumstances (volunteers, short staffed, scant organisation) and they found us a good risk, despite our house's proximity to a main road.

We wandered around the pens. There were quite a few cats but fewer kittens. The post Christmas returns (allergies, unwanted and too much trouble) hadn't really started but the pre-Christmas out-on-the-streets had made up the numbers. Most charities won't release for rehoming before Christmas for obvious reasons. We saw several cats to which we could give a home but left without one as we expected a home visit (not required as it turned out) and wanted more time to make what could be a two decade decision.

Overnight we settled on two. Convinced we would either get cold feet or someone would make off with them we returned today.

They were both still there but one refused to come out to us. When we got back to the officers it transpired that one was 'semi-feral' and the other hated other cats. That meant that they wouldn't let us take both away. We deliberated - that meant one or neither. In our situation (more later) maybe just the one was sensible so we made the choice for the 'shy quiet one' on his own.

So Mr. Binks came home with us.