A Summer Spent Cat Sitting

 

It may seem a bit odd to be writing about something that actually happened months ago now, but at the time when I was originally going to write this I got a little bit side-tracked. Admittedly this actual post has taken me almost a month to write, in between exams, assignments, and general life. However recent events have made it slightly more relevant and given me the motivation to drag it up from the depths of cyberspace.

Over last summer I spent a great deal of time at one of my best friends’ houses, mainly drinking copious cups of tea, contemplating life in general, and often petting his cats. My friend has four cats: a black and white male called Kermit; a brown female called Guinness; and two black cats called Quink and Jubilee. Kermit, Guinness, and Quink are friendly and sociable to an extent; Jubilee on the other hand is skittish to say the least and can usually be found hiding under my friend’s bed. However towards the end of the summer even Jubilee had gotten used to me being there and would no longer run from the room whenever I came in, and if she was feeling particularly brave, she’d even let me stroke her so long as I didn’t make any loud noises or sudden movements.

At the end of the summer my friend went away for a week or so and asked me if I would be able to cat sit for him. For me this was great fun; I’d go down every day, feed the cats, make myself a cup of tea, and use his Wi-Fi and watch his TV whilst I got a bit of peace and quiet for a few hours. The only downside to looking after them was that they are actually pretty gross. The first day I went down to feed them half a frog had been left on the kitchen floor by one of them and the second day there was a mouse’s head on the hall floor.

By the third day the cats had gotten used to my routine, especially given that I was coming at the same time each day, and three of them were waiting for me to arrive, including Jubilee, however Kermit was missing. One of them being missing for one day is really no big deal, all of them except Jubilee are pretty independent cats. However when I came the next day and Kermit was still missing I was starting to worry, and by the third day of him still not being there I was definitely starting to worry. I messaged my friend to tell him that I’d managed to lose his cat. Despite having scoured the house and the garden for Kermit, with little success other than having the other three cats pestering me to hurry up and feed them, my friend reassured me that Kermit was probably fine and he’d turn up again soon. The next day I went down again, though this time at a slightly different time and lo and behold there was Kermit, looking as cool as a cucumber about the fact that he’d been stressing me out for the past couple of days. He’d even brought me a dead mouse, almost as if he was saying “I’m sorry I was gone for a while, but I was trying to find you the perfect present.” (The mouse went straight in the bin.)

Luckily the rest of my time spent cat sitting passed far easier and with no further incidents, much to my relief. The incident that made me want to write about this again is that I recently went home to visit and whilst I was there I went to visit my friend and his cats. Almost immediately after I arrived all four of his cats came up to me clamouring for attention. I like to think that they recognised me at least and perhaps they even missed me. They were certainly far more affectionate than my own cats who always hide from me for at least a week whenever I come home, though admittedly I’ve never put my friends’ cats in cat box to take them to the vets before. I think they’d probably like me far less if I did that to be honest.

Anyways, that’s all of my random cat ramblings for now,

Sophie x


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