Monday, 10 October 2011

Animals in our lives

Milly the Jack Russell & Tinny the Cat

Off to the vet for stitching, twas young vet with a tutor,
But while he's knocked out, we got the vet to neuter,
Two lots of stitches made him sway, but stronger did he get,
Hardly leaves the house at all, so lazy is this cat you bet.

Animals in our lives

Is it any wonder that we dominated by our animals (and kids). When your stuck with an instinct to protect everything in our charge, they come first, come what may. Take our little dog Millie, she is a Jack Russell, she is not aloud to be "home alone". When her principle carer goes out (my misses) she will instantly bring me (Fred) up to the top of her "pecking" order.

 She will follow me about the house, and settle in the next chair, and sometimes settle on the office desk. The slightest hint that her principle carer is back and I am relegated to Zero. Only one look at the cupboard and she gets fed, whereas, I can look at the cupboard and I still have to wait until meal times.

Millie should be fed dog food once a day as she does nothing, in fact she is fed at our meal times and three times in between as well (or so it seams) .The dog food is rejected in favour of best sirloin, breast of chicken, and fish but not the batter. The belly fill cereals are way down her list of options as food.

When Millie needed an operation ( woman's problem you see) there was no stress on Millie on the run up to the big snip, but my misses was not to be told until the night before. Millie had a good nights sleep but her principle carer and me had a very restless night with the misses worrying about the impending op.

  Morning came with Millie not to have food that morning at all, in fact out of loyalty and gilt her principle carer could not eat either. We are talking about a normal human being and a mere DOG Millie, the one with no tail, unless you look closely. On with her heavy collar and robust dog lead (no escape for her) into the car and off I go to do the dirty deed, among stifled tears and fond fair wells (my god she's only going for four hours).

 No wonder I get rejected by most of the pets, it is always me who gets landed with the job of injecting them, or taking them to the vet where they almost invariably get injected as well. Ear drop jobs and nail clipping are other detestable jobs that I am involved in, no wonder she sees me as an expendable friend.

  Later that day I picked a bleary eyed Millie up expecting at least twenty stitches and a good four inch knife hole (like her carer had). But no, we put our glasses on to look closely and mistook her op wound for her belly button, it was one miserable stitch (two when the vet took them out). Key hole surgery you see.

This is Milly, as you see she is diplomaticly reads the right papers, (SOLUTIONS FOR AN UPHILL HARVEST ?)should not realy be on the table, but as you can see from the paws and the long claws she does not go out round the farmyard nowadays. Milly is not too keen on the cats and sometimes backs off with a bloody nose, where each cat claw has penatrated a little bubble of blood pops up, and she is not too pleased.

Milly is our little dog

Milly is our little dog, Jack Russell she is by breed,
Getting older now, and lot of exercise does not need,
But food she loves, and eats quite well
N' put on weight, her tummy to swell

In her own dish bran is added, it is for every meal,
This to help her keep regular, but cat food tries to steal,
Sours her tummy, makes it gurgle, make an awful noise,
Then eating grass to cure it, and then back in play with toys.

Of people she is choosey, the friends she has to make,
Will nip and pull ya trouser leg, outside you must take,
She knows when we prepare go out, will cower top of the stairs,
Have to go up fetch her down, sit in kitchen mid evil glares.

Pleased to see us when we come home, first we hear a bark,
Only half an inch of tail, wags her bum, swings it in an arc,
Races round the kitchen floor, dives into her bean bag,
Settles down with a new toy, chews it to a rag.

Getting grey and older now , knows everything you say,
Even gets on with the cat, and even tries to play,
A touch of noses when they meet, sometime a nip of tail,
But on the whole they're good pals, in their holy grail.


This is to introduce Tinny (the cat)

The cats in our house only catch for sport, and that happens about once a week. Tinny, the currant beneficiary of our principle carers care, exploits this to the full. Its taken him all of six months to twig on to the system that lets him eat his belly full BEFORE going out on patrol, then strole about the stack yard for half an hour and back to the house.

We first noticed "Tinny" (as a stray cat) on the lawn one morning when we were having coffee. He had a humped back and squatting against the wall with his head down, and we thought it was a large stone. Then it moved, and realised it was a cat. We rushed out thinking he was injured, but no, he had his head jammed inside of a ring pull dog food can.

Thinking it might be a wild or nervous cat, we lifted him up by the can thinking he would drop out, but it was tight. To make any progress without injuring him, I had to pinch and pull the hair behind each ear a bit at a time until both ears popped out, then the can dropped off, or should I say he dropped out of the can.He was very dazed because he could hardly breathe, and obviously hungry, that was the reason for getting his head trapped.

When he started on our carers care, he would eat anything offered to him, and he was fed in the shed for at least two days, then he became conscious enough to know where it was coming from. This was when he was called Tinny, and was put on a "build me up diet", which included being wormed.

After a few weeks we noticed he was licking a patch on his fur partway up his back leg, and on investigation found it was a cut. When the fur was parted it opened into a round hole that you could put your finger in. It had to be stitched so we made an appointment for him at the vets, and they were instructed while they had him to knock his tabs off at the same time. This cost me a princely sum of fifty quid plus vat, all for a stray cat called Tinny.

At this point in time he became house bound and has never got out of the habit. From time to time he goes on patrol and catches only the smallest of rats for a bit of sport, but the small ones would eventually become big ones so he is forgiven.

This is where Tinny sits in the morning sun, he is far from a posh cat, he is a happy cat. Never outside for more than half an hour twice a day, so when your planting out the bedding plants it advisable to be wearing gloves. About twelve weeks ago he got very miserable and was loosing weight to the piont we had to take him to the vets.
It was found that he had got some bad teeth, so he was put under and the offending teeth removed. We were shocked to find when got him home we looked in his mouth to find over half his teeth had gone, so now he does not have any dry cat biscuits, and the odd bit of meat he gums it to death, and keeps him happy for ages, he has also put his weight back on as well.

A Cat Called Tinny

We found a cat upon the lawn; his head was in a tin,
A tin that had a raged edge, and should be in the bin,
This hungry cat to reach a lick, of food that's in the bottom,
Shoved his head in over his ears, to get out was his problem.

He'd reversed around the lawn all night, in a bit of bother,
Sat there with his back humped up, he thought he was a goner,
Picked up the tin for him drop out, but firmly was he wedged,
So tight around his head it was, to his maker he was pledged.

To breath it was a problem, suffocation he just missed,
Pulled the hair behind his ears, to extract his head insist,
Found one ear and then the other, and out the tin he popped,
Lay there dopy in a daze, and stay exactly where he dropped.

Resuscitation's what he wanted, and he got it in the house,
This hungry cat around the yard, could not find his mouse,
A little bit of tender care, and food to fill his belly,
Day or two it was before, went out with legs like jelly.

So vulnerable was this cat right now, new home he had found,
And in the following weeks, found strength to trot around,
Into trouble again he was, an injury to his knee,
A hole in his flesh as though, was there to take a key.

Off to the vet for stitching, twas young vet with a tutor,
But while he's knocked out, we got the vet to neuter,
Two lots of stitches made him sway, but stronger did he get,
Hardly leaves the house at all, so lazy is this cat you bet.

Comforts what he yearns for, and its comfort what he's got,
So a name is what he's short of, one that's relevant to his lot,
‘Canny' doesn't sound right, then Tinny' came to mind,
‘Tinny's' what he's called now, now he's safe and sound.


I like pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equels.
Sir Winston Churchill (1847 – 1965)

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