A tale of three cats

First there was Toffee.  We needed a mouser as our old cat Apple had a habit of bringing in live birds and mice; however, Toffee, despite coming from a half-feral family at a farm, proved to be just as useless.  Mice and birds were playthings, and playthings aren't fun if they are dead.  One day I saw Toffee catch a bird in the garden, and I rushed out the back door yelling at him, only to find him sitting innocently in the middle of the lawn. His wide eyes and perky ears seemed to be asking "what bird?".  Unfortunately his innocence was marred by the single wing sticking out from under his furry bum, beating the air frantically as the poor little bird tried desperately to escape!  Toffee is most definitely S's cat.  He will deign to sit on my lap, but only if S is not around.  As soon as S makes an appearance, I am abandoned.

Then Bailey arrived.  Bailey was not impressed with us.  He came to us as an overfed, antisocial 4 year old; he is now older, a nice healthy weight, and we are here for the sole purpose of providing him with food.  Except for C.  He adores C.  She can pick him up and drag him around; he sleeps on her bed; he goes up to her asking for a fuss.  At least we know where we stand.


And then last year, along came Callie.  Well, S and C both had 'their' cats, and I felt left out.  So down to the rescue centre I went, and I came home with a little tortie bundle of joy.


She was tiny, and perfect, and all mine.

A year on, and they have all come to an uneasy truce.  Bailey ignores Toffee completely, the same way he always has.  He ignores Callie too, unless she comes too close to him, and then he hisses and swipes; she used to run away, but now stands her ground and swipes back so we are entertained with a cat boxing match.  She's not daft though; she jumps on a chair first so she has the high ground.  Smart cat.  The biggest change is in Toffee, though.  A year ago he was a very elderly cat, spending all day sleeping and eating.  But now Callie plays with him, and he turns back into a kitten for a few minutes before he wanders off to nap.  I've even caught him playing with his catnip mouse, though he would deny it.

Like most cats, ours love to sleep.

and if they are really unlucky, they sleep on the patio, where C has been playing with chalk.

Bailey was unfortunate enough to roll in the chalk rather than just lie on it.  He is still slightly pink three weeks later.  He is most definitely not impressed.