A few things to report

Another week in the country

That went very well - Binks settled down to being very much a rural cat. The weather (it was over Easter) was glorious and he spent most of it outside. The builders were next door but he has found a spot in the dell, a disused gravel pit to one side of the drive. This is always the spot that we thought he's inhabit. It is pretty much a wilderness in that it is virtually impossible for humans to reach it, so overgrown is it with gorse and bramble. Nevertheless there are spots of clear ground and rabbit runs are evident.

On the catches front, he had two voles, two mice (one of each survived) and a baby rabbit. The bunny was petrified but seemed to be unharmed but I'm not optimistic about its chances. I released it on the common and it hopped away but didn't seek cover - I have a feeling it was too young.

One thing; there is a lot of dry dusty ground around the house and Binks delights in rolling in it - he does this as soon as we arrive. What's he trying to do? Cover up his city cat scent? Is he happy to be there - it looks like it - or is he distressed?

Frank

I heard a squeak on the stairs. 'Oh no - he's got a bird'. Except he hadn't - he was on the landing with a dark marmalade cat.

Who naturally fled as soon as we approached. He was lost and bolted into the front room and proceeded to rush around, attempting mainly, to scale the book cases bring down small avalanches of books. He cowered. We got closer until he bolted out the door and ... up the stairs. Now it became a case of closing all the doors to rooms as we ascended until we had him cornered in the top of the house. More trashing the place. Eventually, he hid behind some stored furniture and sat on the radiator, panting and shaking.

I began to feel quite sorry for him. Some while back I remember the surgeon who fixed my shoulder having his hand in bandages. He had tried to get a feral cat out of his house and it had attacked him. The resulting wounds were infected and his hand blew up. His visit to casualty was 'the first time he had been in hospital' he said, fortunately he made a full recovery. Not thinking of that I tried to make friends and over a period of about 15 minutes, eventually he allowed me to pick him up. My guess is that he was once owned and is now living rough, he had lots of scars around his neck. When we got to the stairs he began to struggle and he rushed down with nowhere to go but out (the back door had been open). Binks was released and proceeded to sniff everywhere compulsively. He seemed to take it quite well.

'Frank'? I reckoned he was about the same colour as Frank Cooper's Oxford Marmalade. We saw him on the rooftops a few days later; he seemed to be quite friendly towards Binks - tail highish and with that lifting head behaviour that's usually seen between co-operative cats. Binks wasn't interested however and hunkered down so we thought it wise to make an appearance before a fight started.

Birds

He doesn't often catch birds - which is good. I feel much worse about them than rats and mice - even rabbits. But he had a blackbird a few days ago. This morning they were giving him the full works - the alarm call was being strident as Binks walked across next door's car park.

Some time since the last post...

Happy to say nothing amiss. Several anniversaries to record. farthest back was Binks' first Christmas. We read that some huge proportion (85%?) of pet owners give presents to their animals over the festive period but we did not - does that make us bad?

Another potentially sentimental day passed more or less unremarked upon - January 6th, a year since his arrival. Amazing how that time has flown. All of us have settled down into mini routines and those, fractal-wise, comprised of smaller and smaller repeated and reinforced acts; fast and slow coming downstairs, the morning visit in the bathroom after breakfast, the vocal greetings, the foot biting in the morning. Once it seemed that all anecdotes belonged to the 'old' cats but now Binks has his own.

We did the annual visit to the vets too. That was more or less without incident. The scariest - though played down - was that he has the slightest of heart murmurs. In the complete absence of clinical signs (shortness of breath etc.) , we were told not to worry. He is very active and the vet did say that it might well go away. He got all the injections as usual and was given a worming tablet about which, rather sheepishly, we had to confess we'd done nothing.

He had been rather unforthcoming on the prey front recently but he celebrated two days after his vet's visit by catching, killing but not eating a rat. Not a very big one but as Jean was at home on her own, she was grateful it was dead. Prior to that we'd had two blank visits to the country; it's been pretty awful weather (though, of course, it never snowed while we were there) and it is most likely the mice and voles are hidden away. You have to go back as far as December to find a score (two, one alive, one dead and (ugh..) trodden on). One day I'll add all these up.

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.