Monday, 26 September 2016

We Serve Good Food In Our Shed.

The word has spread like wildfire.

For years we've been feeding our feral cat Tigger a square meal per day. Winter or summer. A while ago Bob even dug a path from her lair to the feeding bowl during a particular arduous winter, one that was blessed with mountains of snow.

Since the arrival of our little Mausi, she who rules the house with an iron paw constantly wrapped around the both of us, Tigger apart from feeding, spends her days and nights watching Mausi. Rather entertaining and cute. We usually feed our almost tame feral cat about 5 o'clock and as soon as the heat of the day has given way to a four o'clock breeze, she is within striking distance of her food bowl.

The last few days I've notice a couple of extra cats lingering in the yard, in a sort of holding pattern. Eating in relays seems apt. A ginger tabby that I don't know and Checkov from down the road. Not that they look hungry but keen nonetheless. The haute cuisine we practice has been whispered around the neighbourhood alleys.

Normally I go and feed Tigger and did tell Bob about the two extra customers in our cat-diner. Do you know, sometimes I wonder whether Bob just nods along to whatever I tell him. In the one ear out of the other ear unless it has the words: Bob / can you do in it.

Why you might ask...today Bob went to feed our feral cat and all I heard was his stern voice:

" No, you can't eat here. This is Tigger's food. "
followed by him calling me outside to tell me about the ginger cat already lying in wait. It takes about two minutes to put the food in the bowl but today Bob was outside for at least 15 min. He was standing guard in case our Tigger would be chased from the food bowl.

Yes, Bob is the kindest and he might even put out an extra table setting outside....yes dear cats of the neighbourhood, the buffet is open. Come and place your orders...

Biggi