Welcome to my weird world!

An answer to the requests for more about my animals

"Animals are such agreeable friends - they ask no questions, they pass no criticisms"
George Eliot (1819 - 1880) - from 'Mr. Gilfil's Love Story,' Scenes of Clerical Life, 1857

I must confess to having been surprised that people are reading my blog. Silly perhaps, because that, presumably is what folks normally do with blogs, but still!

I want to keep my 'readers' happy, so, as a few people have now requested more detail about my animals (fine, if you don't want to hear about me... see if I care! ), I will try and answer those requests today.

I'm sure it wasn't intended to be funny, but the above quote amused me greatly. From personal experience, I would say that it is complete nonsense. My cats are certainly capable of asking questions and passing criticisms; even my fish are capable of issuing a perfectly clear admonishment if we are tardy in feeding them.

Okay, I should probably start by giving you some background. Our 'menagerie' consists of four cats, four rabbits, two guinea-pigs and an assortment of pond, coldwater and tropical fish.

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The eldest cat is a longhaired rescue moggie; probably a persian cross. She is 6 1/2, and is called Jinny, which is old Scots for 'white wave' (when we adopted her, she was called Moppit!). She has the softest fur imaginable, and ridiculously warm: if you wrap her fur around your hand, it starts to feel uncomfortably warm almost instantly! The fur on her back, tail and legs is a mottled mixture of light and dark browns and a sandy colour, while her tummy, paws, chest and jaw are the purest white. The fur on her tummy has a slight curl to it, which is very cute but can be a pain for getting tangled.

As I mentioned, Jinny is a rescue cat, and I've no idea what her previous owner(s) did to her, but she's obviously been mis-treated in some way. She is very flighty, and when we bought her, she regularly made a mess of the floor if someone approached too rapidly. Even today, if she gets worked up about something, it's a wise precaution to hold her over a litter tray! For my feelings about Jinny's previous treatment, see "Lament of a Second Owner" .

When I was at Uni in Lancaster, I used to volunteer in one of the local animal sanctuaries, and that is where I came across Jinny. She came in with her brother, but they hated each other, and were both independent, so we were allowed to take one without the other.

I wanted a female rather than a male, because we had another male cat at that point, who wouldn't have been happy with another male in the house. Jinny is also one of the prettiest cats imaginable, with her flowing fur, and big green eyes. That, combined with her funny chattering through the fence at the sanctuary, just made me fall in love with her!

We had just found out that there was a possibility our existing cat might have cancer, so I begged my partner to let me get her 'just in case', and eventually he relented.

Jinny's meow is the funniest thing you've ever heard; seriously. She doesn't so much meow as 'meep'. If she gets excited, she'll sit there going 'ma, mya, ma, ma, ma', very fast. It's probably most akin to the noise that terriers and other small dogs make, except in a much higher pitch.

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The next eldest is a Maine Coon male, at 2 years and 4 months. We bought him as a kitten, along with Ali, who I will talk about in a minute. His name is Call (pronounced as in the name Callum), which is gaelic for 'mischief', although his pedigree name is Elmcoon Basil. Call is a brown classic tabby, and is huge: about four feet long from the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail. He is a gorgeous rich reddish-brown over most of his body, with just a few paler swirls on his sides, and a creamy-coloured tummy. With his size, his long fur and his colouring, Call looks a lot like a wild cat, although when his fur gets tousled (for example when he's just woken up), my Mum says he looks like a 'moth-eaten carpet'!

Maine Coon's are well known for being intelligent, and Call is highly intelligent in certain ways, but he's also a complete muppet. He's the one who'll figure out how to turn on a tap, or open a tub, or use a door handle. He's also the one who'll fall off the back of the couch, spill juice on his head and try to actually use the door handle. Using a door handle might not sound like 'muppetry', but in a situation where any 'normal' cat would just push a door with their head, Call insists on trying to stand on his hind legs and use the door handle. This normally results in him falling into the room as the door flies open.

I recently fell foul of Call's large size. We don't often wash the cats, because none of ours are show cats, and they generally keep themselves clean. Jinny has been washed many times because of her habit of getting in a mess. Before a few weeks ago, Call, on the other hand, hadn't been washed since he was a kitten.

My partner's Mum was coming up to stay for the weekend, and Jinny got in a mess again on the Thursday so I washed her. After washing, we always dry them with their towel (light brown with dark brown paw prints all over it!). For the two longhairs, just using a towel doesn't tend to get them particularly dry, so they end up having to be locked in the bathroom for hours to avoid having wet furniture.

Recently, we have therefore purchased a dog hairdryer. This has two barrels with separate controls, meaning that you can gradually step up the level of the dryer to minimise distress to the animal. As the rescue cat, Jinny tends to be the most aggressive of the four, so I carefully wrapped her front end in the towel while I dried her back end with very little struggle. When I removed the towel and moved on to her front end, she put up a bit more of a fight, but basically I had no problem.

On the Saturday morning, Call was looking particularly foosty (you need to say that with a Scottish accent, really), so I decided to groom him. This is much easier if the fur has been shampooed and conditioned first, so I decided to give him a wash. This went off without a hitch, and I towel-dried him and fetched the hairdryer.

At this point, it is probably worth pointing out that Call is generally the biggest softy in the Universe. He's never really been known to put even a claw out of place, so I didn't expect much trouble from him.

I wrapped his front end in the towel exactly as I had done with Jinny, and turned on the hairdryer. He went mental. He stuck all of his claws (and I mean all - I had four sets of scratches) in my legs, threw himself backwards out of the towel and bit my hand. Hard.

I tried to hold onto him, but he was going crazy, and I ended up getting bitten a second time on the same hand. Anyway, the bites wound up getting infected, I ended up at the hospital and having to have treatment, including a doctor deciding to use a scalpel . Needless to say, I won't be trying that again!

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The next oldest is Ali, a moggie who came to us as a kitten, from the same sanctuary as Jinny. Again, I came across him in the course of my volunteering. His mother and her sister (both feral) were brought in pregnant. Ali's Mum gave birth to three kittens, while her sister gave birth to two. I don't really remember the other litter, but Ali had two brothers, one the same colour as him, and one a ginger tabby.

At the time, I had just lost my ginger tabby to oral cancer (see "My beautiful Tiger" ), and although I already had Jinny, my partner had said that I could get a kitten to 'fill the void', and I was keen to get another ginger tabby. I therefore watched the development of Ali's litter with interest, and was in to see them whenever I was up at the sanctuary.

I had also looked up listings of different cat breeds, and decided that a Maine Coon had a personality most similar to Tiger's, so was looking at different breeders. I originally went to Call's breeder to look at his ginger brother, but Call insisted on following me around, and sat next to me on the sofa, so I ended up falling in love with him instead.

Anyway, back to Ali! As he and his brothers grew, it became obvious that the other two had inherited far more of their mother's feral fear of humans, and that Ali also had a much more prominent personality. He was an absolute rogue, and a real escape artist, who was forever coming up with new schemes to get out of his 'kitten room'. He once attached himself to the back of someone's belt in an attempt to ride out of the room. On another occasion, he hid in the food cart when the staff were putting down a feed, and the staff member only found him once she was out of the room.

As Ali approached the age at which he could be reserved, I became more and more attached to him. My partner and one of our friends came up to see him one day, and they both adored him too. I had already committed to buying Call, though, and he was also a lovely kitten.

Eventually, I persuaded Richard to let me get both kittens, which actually turned out to be a blessing: we had Ali for a week before we got Call, and it was a nightmare. Neither of us had anticipated the amount of time that a kitten will want to play, and we had huge trouble getting Ali off to sleep at night. Obviously he was used to sleeping curled up with his two brothers, and he kept us awake at night by crying in his room (the kittens had a room to themselves). We ended up having to get a furry hot-water-bottle and put him on that and then stroke him until he went to sleep.

I've just realised that I haven't actually described him! Ali is a black classic tabby and white, and he is a particularly contrasting tabby. His sides have perfectly formed black swirls on a greyish-beige background, and like Jinny, he has white mittens and a white tummy, chest and chin. In Ali's case, though, half of his tummy isn't white, and it has the cutest line of black spots.

Ali is the only one of our cats whose weight we have trouble keeping correct. Initially, this probably occurred because he was fed with Call, and tried to eat at the same speed as him. Since he started gaining weight, though, we've fed them separately, and Ali gets 'diet food'. The only problem with this arrangement is that Ali doesn't approve of his diet food, and will sneak off and try and steal any other food that he can get hold of. He is adept at breaking into food cupboards, bags and tubs!

While Gealbhan (more in a moment) was a small kitten, he was supposed to have food down at all times, and we have had nightmares keeping Ali off it. I eventually devised a system of feeding Gealbhan in a box with a tunnel entrance, so that only he could get in, but Ali has a real good try, and succeeds whenever he gets a bit slimmer (very annoying, because then he's not slim anymore!).

'Ali' is short for Droch Ailig (pronounced Droch, as in loch, and Alick), which is the gaelic for rascal. Aptly named he is, too!

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Finally, the youngest of our cats was only purchased this year. He is now about nine months old, and is still an absolute monster, particularly since he's an abyssinian, so is completely hyper! He is a sorrel, and we called him Gealbhan (pronounced Gell-van), which is gaelic for 'little fire'. His pedigree name is Pontaby Zeppolle.

His pet name refers both to his personality and his colour. Abyssinians are ticked tabbies, meaning that although there is very little overall pattern, each hair is has at least three bands of different colour. In Gealbhan's case, the colours are the beigey-cream ground colour and a rich cinnamon. This gives him a fiery ginger-brown coat, which certainly suits his temperament.

From a showing point of view, Gealbhan would be useless, because he has flawed markings: he has a locket, anklets and necklets. A locket is an area of white, and is an automatic fault in a show; Gealbhan has one on his throat and we think it's the cutest thing in the world! The only permitted tabby markings on an abyssinian are on the face; lockets and anklets are tabby markings around the neck and legs respectively, and Gealbhan has both. Perhaps not much use for showing, but we think he's all the more gorgeous for it.

Abyssinians look like your archetypal cat: lithe, slender, flexible, muscular, graceful... When Gealbhan walks, you can see the muscles ripple under his sleek fur, and he is capable of the most phenomenal feats of balance, flexibility and physical skill. At the same time, though, he is a bit unusual as Abys go: he doesn't have an aloof bone in his body. Gealbhan loves nothing better than curling up on the sofa, and at night he is usually to be found either curled up around someone's legs under the covers, or curled up on somone's chest on top of the covers.

When the three boys get together, all hell breaks loose. Maine Coons are not fully mature until they are about four, so Call is basically still a kitten, and he and Gealbhan regularly charge around the house. They make the funniest pair, because Call's so large and fluffy, while Gealbhan is so dainty and sleek. Ali isn't quite as playful (he is fully mature and needs to maintain his dignity, after all), but sometimes he joins in the games. When that happens, the three of them tear round the house: up and down the scratching post; on and off the furniture; up and down the stairs; in and out of rooms and back and forward along the corridors. I work in the office below our flat, and at times I can hear them crashing around so loudly that I have to stop myself going up to find out what's going on!

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The rabbits that we keep are Chocolate Tans. These have a dark chocolate-brown back, and vibrant ginger on their tummies, chins, under their tails, around their eyes and inside their ears. They are beautiful, lively and inquisitive rabbits. As pets, they are not much given to sitting around docilely, preferring to get involved in everything you are doing, but they are not averse to a cuddle and love being stroked. We used to keep a Black Tan (same ginger, but a black back) as a house-pet, and he used to come and tug on the bottom of your trousers with his teeth, if you didn't stroke him when you walked in.

The four that we have at present are Kíla (pronounced Kee-la, gaelic for 'lovely') and three of her offspring (un-named, because we don't want to get too attached). Before we moved from Lancaster, we used to breed them for showing, and the three youngsters are the remaining three from her last litter of five. We haven't had time to show since moving, and didn't have the heart to put them into a pet shop. They are such a striking breed that someone is likely to go "oh, I've not seen one of them before: I'll take it", when they don't have a hutch or food for it. Instead we hoped to find them homes privately, but with the move and our work levels since, we've only had time to find homes for two.

The remaining three are two boys and one girl. I think we might keep the girl, because she had a false pregnancy at one point, and built a beautiful nest, which should mean that she'll make a good mother when we start breeding again. The two boys are our friendliest rabbits: both come to see you when you put their food bowls in, and one of them loves getting cuddled (the other prefers just to be stroked).

Incidentally, if anyone knows of someone in Central Scotland who is looking for a rabbit, we've got at least two gorgeous ones here!!

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In Lancaster, we had two guinea-pigs who were brothers with fairly long, tufty hair. One was called Cappuccino, and was a rich coffee-brown with cream patches, while the other was the reverse, and we called him Caramac (that's a pale-coloured caramel bar, in the UK). Unfortunately Cappuccino died last year (as did Kíla's 'husband', Galaxy), so then we just had Caramac.

About three months ago, my little cousin's hamster died, and his Mum bought him a guinea-pig. Surprisingly, he turned out to be allergic to this, although he'd never had a problem with the hamster. My aunt asked if we would take their guinea-pig (Fudge), and of course, we obliged. Fudge is a smooth-haired, with a mixture of brown, white and sandy colouring, and one black, one white and two brown paws.

The guinea-pigs currently live in separate hutches, because they seem only to be able to share peaceably for a couple of days before a fight breaks out. Having not been kept together from birth, it's not overly surprising for two males to fight, but it would be more useful if they could share.

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In a pond in the garden, we have one Ghost Koi (we did have a second koi, but a bird got it), four goldfish (and around five baby Goldfish at about an inch long and still brown: I presume they are last year's babies), two Shebunkins (no idea how you spell that) and a Blue Orfe.

In the kitchen, we have a tank at 21ºC, with a Common Plec, a Weather Loach, a False Siamese Algae Eater and six White-Cloud Mountain Minnows. This tank is eventually also going to house some small fantails.

In my room, we have a tank that is technically our quarantine/hospital tank, but as it would not be in use otherwise, is currently housing two female guppys.

In the study, a small tanks holds five male guppys bred by us, with irridescent blue/green sides and canary-yellow, floaty tales splashed with orange streaks.

We have two tanks in the livingroom, side by side to form one 'tankscape'. This enables us to hold fish that could not be kept together, but look good as part of the same 'display'.

Each tank has a False Siamese Algae Eater, and a male Siamese Fighting Fish. Apart from that, one houses three female Siamese Fighting Fish, two Opaline Dwarf Gouramis, a black lace Angelfish, three Corydoras Sterbai, three Zebra Loaches, six Neon Tetras, five Black Neon Tetras and six Glowlight Tetras.

The other tank houses the aforementioned plus a Royal Plec (gorgeous black and white stripes and bright orange eyes), ten Kuhli Loaches, five Zebra Danios, five Silvertip Tetras, two Congo Tetras, two Black Widow Tetras and three Emperor Tetras (one male and two females).

The thing I love about a fish tank is its constant movement. It's like having a picture that is ever-changing. Some of the fish also have real personalities, and others are just plain funny, whatever they're doing, like the Kuhlis. The plecs get hilariously grumpy if you don't feed them at the expected time (about 10 minutes after the lights go out), and the Angelfish sticks its lips against the glass if it thinks it's due a feed. The gourami's spit water out of the tank at you if you're too late feeding them.

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Although some people may feel that we have a lot of animals, we'd love more. Our next purchase will probably be a Sheltie (Shetland Sheepdog), although we may get chickens before we get to having a dog. At some point we'd also like to keep a Barn Owl and a general aviary. I think it helps that we don't have kids: our cats are our kids, so we've got plenty of time for them. I can't imagine life without all my animals, and there's plenty of room for more!

"It's a lot like nature. You only have as many animals as the ecosystem can support and you only have as many friends as you can tolerate the bitching of"
Randy K. Milholland, Something Positive Comic, 16th August, 2005