British Summer TIme started today, and a lovely sunny day it was too. Charley celebrated it in the time honoured fashion.
On the subject of BST, we were discussing the other night why the clocks change in the middle of the night on Sunday, giving only a small minority of night-shift workers the benefit of a shorter shift. Why not have it at, say, 4pm on Friday, so we can all get off home an hour early? I'm sure that would be a popular vote winner, Mr Politician, especially if the October "going-back-an-hour" was still reserved for those night shifters?
Charley loves the Advent calendar he got off his Grandma. Of course, as he has no opposable thumb I have to open it for him, but after that he has great fun trying to find which door the catnip drops are behind. Poor lad's not the greatest hunter/killer in the world and sometimes he struggles to find the right door, especially if it's the one he's decided to sit on. Cries of "it's behind you!" - very seasonal.
Anyone who's ever eaten chocolate buttons will know that sometimes two stick together to form one "larger" button. Charley just spits these out, he won't touch them. He'll have them once I've split them apart, but as one... no way. Picky little beggar.
Charley hates fireworks. All the bangs and whistles that have been going on for the last couple of weeks (and yes, they're still going on tonight) have him almost too afraid to go out. At least he's sensible and he knows to come straight home if there's noises outside he doesn't like. He then hides under the couch or burrows himself into the duvet (forgive the picture, the bedding was being washed at the time).
It's quite sweet in a way. I joke that I should buy a stock of bangers and let some off at regular intervals through the year, as we much prefer Charley to sleep in at nights than wanting to be out mousing.
It was Charley's 9th birthday today, which puts him somewhere between 54 and 63 in human terms, depending on which of the commonly held ratios you choose to use. Either way, he's pretty close to "retirement" and can look forward to a life of doing nothing but eat and sleep. Oh, hold on, that's all he's done for as long as we've known him! Anyway, he still looks like a kitten to us.
He also makes it roll across the floor, a trick he learned from his friend the hamster.
Since the only times Charley ever sees his carry box is when he's going to the vets or the cattery we expected that he'd hate it. However we left it out after his last vet visit (just laziness) and one day I caught him pawing at the door trying to get in. We took the door off it and now it's his favourite place to sleep. Well, until we get into bed at which point he gets out and joins us on the bed.
He often comes in from outside, has his dinner and then just hot tails it upstairs to go and sleep in his box! He looks very settled in there, doesn't he.
It's Charley's birthday today, he's 8 (we think). As you can see he had two cards (one from us and one from Aunty SIL and Uncle BFG) and a "cake" of Tuna steak with just one candle in it - we didn't want to scare (or burn) the poor lad. He did an excellent job of blowing out the candles and making a wish - and his wish came true as he got to devour the tuna steak immediately afterwards.
Meet, err, well, for want of a better name, Charley Junior. I'd always said that I wished I'd known Charley as a kitten and now here he is! Except it's not Charley, it's a stray that a neighbour brought to us. Nice to be known as "the people who take in cats" :-S
Charley's got tonight's sleeping arrangements sorted. Looks like wife's in the spare room again!
Charley's "pal" White Cat was waiting at the patio doors for him this morning. I say "pal" because I do my best to discourage this association, there's just something about White Cat that I don't trust. He never looks properly clean to me, and a cat that's letting personal hygiene slip is a cat that's on the road to nowhere in my book.
I'm not sure what White Cat's fascination is with Charley, but apparently he used to sit outside his former home too and wail (sic) for him to come out. I'm not sure if there's anything "romantic" going on here, I have no idea what sex White Cat is, but Charley does get on well with him/her. There's never any hissing, posturing or "making really strange noises" like goes on between Charley and Black Cat (although in hindsight maybe that is a sign of romance?).
Anyway, White Cat appeared to have brought a little gift with him, either for Charley or for us, I'm not sure which. I gave the Dunnock a proper Christian burial, complete with flowers to mark the grave. I just hope Charley & White Cat don't treat it as if it's some kind of fast food outlet.
As a footnote I have to say that I'm not 100% sure of Charley's sex either. His other owners said he's a boy, but I've never seen any evidence of that (not that I've looked too closely) and he never seems to do anything typically "boy-like", being totally uninterested in football, motor sports or DIY. On the other hand he does like to do girly things like giving himself manicures, doing his hair and sleeping.
Wife had a chat with Charley's owners and we are now officially "sharing" him. Dunno what that means to them, but to us it means Charley lives with us now and he can visit his other owners while we're not around.
