Sylvio

"Me talk to a dog? That's a Laugh!!!"

So Roscoe is taking his burly old dog Mouse for a walk and he sees Sylvio watching the world from the front verandah.

Well Sylvio loves it when people say Tcch Tcch Tcch to him because it's Sylvio talk for

"Someone wants to pat me."

Sylvio likes Roscoe ever since the first tummy rub during kitten time.

So Sylvio goes to the fence for a pat.

It's a matter of head butt, head butt, head butt, cos Sylvio likes to help the patting process....

And this goes on for some time with a lot of writhing, with appreciative little mrrr's and many purrs and Sylvio is near to getting the very best patting and petting of the day when suddenly he happens to looks down.

There is Big Dog Mouse, patiently sitting and waiting for the rest of his walk.

So Purrs and Mrrrs and ecstatic slithering go right off the menu, the fur goes fluffy and what follows language-wise is the worst that ever Mouse has heard.

It's best to get on with walking they decide, as Sylvio retreats (all fluffed up).

This Little Silver Boy

A Beautiful Sylvio Boy

She worked so hard today at some writing that might sort a few things out.

Ah and She felt it might after talking about it all with Alan and Col earlier this evening.

She came back late, a warm half moon lighted night, but She left some doors ajar and several of the little ones slipped out.

She's now recently talked to most of the neighbours and has explained that she has the nourishing food here and not too many biscuits here please on account of possible later kidney damage and kind friends are saying they will look out for these Special Ones.

We have the fresh food as the biggest part of the diet and well, look at little Princess, she's not too bad for a cat her age. 

Too many of the bikkies are OK for a bit of breakfast, but not too many in the long term.

Princess isn't going to Jos's place too much now.

Scrap, who is in indignation about More Cats! ( We have Aphex from next door as well as one Princess), has moved across the road to flirt with Jos and Col and Mick. She's a sweetie, little Scrap. I tried to explain to her, I even held my hand out for her to scratch if she liked and she did.

Poor hands.

Tonight, exhausted after a full day at the computer in which I tried some Fine Writing, I came home after my break at the Pub so tired and I left some doors ajar. I'm even tireder right now because I just came inside after trawling outside with the torch.

Stanley said he wanted to stay outside and be a hunter. Bally is outside too. All the others came inside to my coaxing, little darlings.

One little one has me worried, one Sylvio...

After a very long stint on Computer and satisfying writing, this afternoon, I went to the Front Verandah.

Sylvio across the road, saw me with delight and rushed to meet.

That speeding car screeched to a halt and only just missed him and She is not yet recovered.

Yes, She's met most of the neighbours, good folk, good big back yards.

I, She spells out that even if they are accidents, She has very lovely little pussy cats.

I've now put out the word that if anyone would like a highly intelligent light hearted little silver mackerell tabby who is desexed and immunised and microchipped, that if they live in a casual place without too many cars and desire a small companion, why this one has so far only risked two of his little precious lives.

Sylvio is a beautiful boy.

Oh, Oh, both Scrap and Princess mind their journeys across the road. Sylvio sees She and he runs without thought and O dear one, No.

I held him tight, I said to him, you aren't allowed to be run over.

This time though, he was scared, his little heart beat fast!

Dear God from whom he is descended, Please Protect him!

Adventures

She sick, sore teeth, sore head.

She came back from Dentist, Sylvio ran to meet, nearly got run over, 

She yelling, Carla scream.

Sylvio OK.

Princess run up tree, can't get down, She climb after Princess.

Grace get lost, She look, She call and hears the echoing cries of a small Grace.

Grace locked in next door Garage, comes, late for dinner.

Friday

Inside Cats

The cats are introducing me to more people and especially to more children.

The cats act charming, they curl up under the flowering bushes looking graceful and whiskery and they accept praise and worship from us all.

Princess doesn't come out of her bathroom nest very often, but every few days she's restless and wanders around with her characteristic cry which sounds like a hoarse Wowwr!! Wowr. On those days I take her across the road to visit Jos and Mick and to assume her old place on the verandah where she has watched the street go by these last eight years or so.

Not every day. A day out, then two day's rest.

Even though the vet said that her kidneys are remarkably good for a cat her age, she sometimes pees in her bed.  More work for she but Princess still does her cat work, slipping out from her curtained bed, saying hello, lip marking the red shelf in the bathroom, accepting caress and praise, then slipping back to bed.

She's eating well and her arthritic back legs are less shaky than they were a few weeks ago.

She can still leap onto my lap. She can still run nimbly up Jos's front steps although I'm not sure that she still ascends the mulberry tree to get to Jos's roof.

She said she wanted to go out in yesterday's blistering heat. As I carried her past our front gate, she had the energy to hiss at Scrap, who looked  surprised.

Me, I didn't do much at all, a bit of study, a walk to the Post Office to pay bills, some kitchen work and so on.

I collected Princess in the evening. As I chatted with Jos, Sylvio dashed across the road to talk to us. Friday evening's traffic is always dense. Jos and I were frozen with horror. Sylvio timed his run well. I brought him back first. Usually Sylvio, Grace and Stanley are inside by evening time being the first of all the cats to enquire about dinner....

Next time I'll make sure he's in before I cross the road. He's too daring, that small silver boy.

So all are inside and fed except for Greyling. I try to fetch her a few times, but she dances away. 

I go outside to look for her and notice fine drops of rain.

Too tired, too hot to bring the washing in earlier, I get the basket and fetch the washing, not even bothering to fold it.

When I return to our small back yard, the garden is full of silver whiskery faces, mischievous and mysterious.  I'd closed the door without locking it and it must have been Zorro who teased the door open.

They've had their dinner and now they aren't going to come inside, thanks all the same!

I go to get the camera. The pattern of the little faces among the flowering silvery mauve heliotrope and the silver dragon shapes of the artichoke is lovely. They are all in the wilderness by the time I return to the garden and No, when I call, they will not come.

I give up and go inside.

The rain gradually gets heavier and pretty soon there are faces at the kitchen window.

"Can we come inside now please?"

"Oh, all right," she growls.

But Lucibelle and Balanchine didn't escape. They knew the rain to be on its way.

Sylvio's Mystery

We all welcome a delicious day like this. She even skips a bit, arms wide, heart singing. All of the little felines are a-hunting, whisker-quivering, they raise the left front paw and move inside through wide open doors. They tease the inside doors to investigate all the biscuit bowls for stray biscuits, they check the hallway to see if there's something in the can to scoop before the can is binned. The block of wood is still wedged against the fridge door, but it's worth a try because the fridge is a most delectable place for one Zorro, even if he got stuck inside for a good ten minutes once during kittentime. She has recently placed a bigger block of wood against the fridge door and phooey, it won't move, but what's this in the kitchen corner?  It's a cupboard ajar, a cupboard with the big big pack of biscuits. Lucibelle helps Zorro, but then there's something of more interest, the busy buzzing of a blowfly at the kitchen window above the sink. (The Blowfly is the surest sign of Springtime!)  Crash goes a plate and everyone flees.  Cautiously they come back.  The cupboard door is closed, the plate swept up, the finger is shaken, Naughty, NAUGHTY!! And they all run off to chase the butterflies except for Stanley who settles on the verandah in order to closely watch the street.  She is cooking again, but clumsy after her illness spills some food on the track suit pants which are rinsed and hung on the line still dripping. Sylvio is entranced.  (He loves water, he tastes it and teases it and wets his ears and paws with it and he's the only cat who danced around in last week's warm rain, enjoying wetness.)  They have all accompanied She to the clothes line in next door's yard and they run up and down the loquat tree and do some chasing, when Sylvio discovers that water is dripping from above.He wriggles his ears, he licks the drops, then he sets off to examine every inch of lawn to see if dripping water comes from above anywhere else. It's very confusing sometimes for a cat who knows what he likes.

pics and events

Sylvio & Carla

Sylvio is an alpha cat also.

He likes to meet people and he's insistent on attention, as much attention as possible.

Bally, the eldest boy isn't alpha. He's timid, always looks for reassurance.  Bally is the biggest size wise, and was formerly the runt of Scrap's first litter.

This morning Ariel went out to sun herself on Jos's verandah which faces east. The day is warmer than expected. Jos is going to bring Princess across the road before she sets out for Church at ten.

At 9.30 am, there's a knock at the door just as I start up on the net. 

It's Jos: "Have you got Princess?"

"No."

Princess has a good breakfast, suns herself, converses with Jos at length, and then disappears in an instant.

Her old tricks.

We wander around calling. I come back and finish my tea and Jos heads off to heartily pray for Princess in Church.

I try to go across the road to look around while Jos is at Church. Sylvio follows me up the street and penetratingly yells at me to come back as soon as I try to cross the road. 

I give in and return. It's all right. Jos comes dashing across the road to tell me that coming up the street, returning from Church, there is Princess, washing her face on the verandah.

It's a warmer day today. With cats, you go with the flow, or try to do that.

Sylvio Likes To Watch The Watchers