Do You Ever Get The Feeling....

The salad dressing that thinks it's a volcano

....that someone's trying to tell you something? If my last two mornings are anything to go by, someone, somewhere seems to want to tell me something! I've just not figured out what it is yet.

Yesterday, I thought I'd try to be organised and prepare myself  a healthy packed lunch and salad.  I had a lovely new M&S salad dressing (Sicilian lemon - I'm a sucker for 'new' flavours) and, as per bottle instructions, shook it gently to mix it..big mistake...HUGE mistake!

As I unscrewed the lid, the bottle did an amazing impression of Mount Vesuvius and erupted everywhere, gushing lemony, oily salad dressing everywhere losing half the contents in the process.  On the plus side, all that oil proved to be very good for my hands as they were lovely and soft after being covered in it.


Fast forward to today... I was getting ready for work (no packed lunch or salad today) and whilst I was upstairs, I heard Tula, the cat, running about.  Nothing odd there you may think.  However, Tula has a very distinctive type of running sound - especially when she's brought me a 'present.'

The sparrow before the rescue mission

I ran downstairs to spy feathers in the kitchen.  Not a good sign.  Tula, however, was in the utility room looking slightly crazed and focused on the side of her litter tray. I gingerly looked down the side of the tray (it's one of those covered affairs) and saw a petrified, very much alive (phew) sparrow. What to do?

Firstly, and somewhat uncremoniously, I dumped Tula outside and locked the cat flap.  Cue Tula turning into a feline battering ram, trying to get back in. I grabbed a towel and tried to catch the poor bird - failing miserably.  The poor thing was so frightened it flew down the side of the freezer, under the work top.

The rescue mission was turning into a two person job. Luckily, hubby is off work this week so I ran upstairs to wake him from his slumbers. He was not best pleased but once awake, joined the search and rescue team.



When he managed to move the freezer, the poor sparrow flew up and into the unused tumble drier vent.  We tried to get the front of the vent off so it could fly into the garden but it was firmly stuck to the wall.  There was only one thing for it... I had to don gloves and exercise my 'sparrow wrangling' skills. 

Thankfully this story has a happy ending. I caught the sparrow and it flew free away from the garden.  It does make me wonder what tomorrow morning will bring though, as (if you're superstitious) things are supposed to happen in threes...

Finally, I snapped this photo this morning too, before the rescue mission.  I wonder what Stevie and Mina are trying to tell me? Any guesses?

Stevie & Mina trying to tell me to something

The Final Farewell

Today I found myself making a decision I dreaded, and one which I had hoped not to make until the New Year.  My well loved and aged Taz cat (affectionately known as Tazzie) had to be put to sleep.

It hardly seems just over a year ago that I was in the same situation with my first cat, Chivers. I had always thought that Chivers would outlive Tazzie, but it wasn't to be.

I adopted Tazzie in 1992 from the appropriately named, Cat Orphanage in Billingham.  Her loud purr and sandpaper-like licks won my heart from the first moment I cuddled her. Tazzie was only about 8 months old when I adopted her, but like many poor un-neutered cats she had already had a litter of kittens and had endured a pretty tough start to life.

Tazzie, the food & drink cat burglar

 
Tazzie was the original cat burglar - especially where food was concerned. Despite always being well fed by me, she couldn't get rid of the instincts that I suspect were ingrained into her every fibre when she was a stray.

I will always remember Tazzie at a family barbecue, with her perfectly manicured talon swiping a sausage from under my Dad's nose. To this day, I don't know who looked the more surprised - my Dad for losing a sausage or Tazzie for her tasty foodie victory.

It wasn't all plain sailing with Tazzie though.  In her first year with me, I lost count of the number of times she urinated on the carpet: a change of cat litter (away from those hard dissolvable pellets) and ceramic tiles instead of carpet soon sorted that, along with the realisation that having a cat flap on the litter box prevented her from using it. There was also one time when me and my first husband had been away overnight and we came home to find that Tazzie had peed & pooped in the middle of our bed (and somehow managed to turn the radio on too - must have been one hell of a party).

I'm sure that these mishaps may have put off other owners, but not me. I persevered, read as much as I could about cats and their behaviour and learnt lots from both Tazzie and Chivers.

Stevie & Tazzie sharing a snooze

When Tazzie was around 13 years old, she was introduced to Mina.  She coped very well and took living with Stevie and Jasper in her stride.
 
Fast forward over 18 years and my beloved Tazzie was an OAP with failing health. She had become deaf in the last few years and seemed to live in her own little bubble. I was always very careful when approaching her bed and used to tap my fingers on the floor, to wake her up gently and not startle her.

Her quality of life had diminished and her world had shrunk to the size of the utility room. She could no longer groom herself and despite my regular sessions of brushing her coat, she still had matted fur that she just couldn't reach.  In the last few days her health had declined even further, leaving me with the heartbreaking decision that took me to the veterinary surgery today.

It's fair to say I have been in floods of tears and am still sobbing as I write this.  I wanted to be with Tazzie in her final moments and, as hard as it is to see your pet and companion slip away, I felt I owed it to her to soothe her passing with quiet words and cuddles.

Some people may question why I'm crying and grieving, after all she was 'only' a cat.  However Tazzie (and like Chivers before her) was not just a cat, she was my cat and companion.

Over the last 18 years she has provided me with companionship, cuddles, laughter, unconditional love and has been a constant presence during life's ups and downs.  Through deaths, divorce, redundancy, life changes, marriage, house moves and ill health Tazzie has been there with a loud purr, an emery board tongue and unlimited supplies of affection.

Our pets provide us with so much and their time with us is fleeting. I will miss Tazzie tremendously and I'm sure that the hounds too will wonder what has happened to the black and white ball of fluff that used to follow them around.
RIP Tazzie
1992 - 16 November 2010