It’s happened at last. Tutheran has left the garden. After getting increasingly desperate, and concerned for our cats who were living scared of a Tutheran fight, I finally managed to get him a place in a local animal shelter and an appointment to take him there on Thursday.
But then I had a last-minute pang of guilt – I know from my experience helping at the cat shelter that certain cats do NOT get adopted easily. Black cats. Older cats. Ugly cats. Cats which scratch.
So a few frantic phonecalls later and my Mum manage to track down a lady who had previously considered having him, but we had both agreed it wasn’t a great idea as she already had a cat. Since then, her elderly cat has died, which is very sad for her, but great news for Tutheran as she said YES!
Catching him was another matter. He’s all cuddly and loving in this picture but as soon as a cat carrier came into the equation, everything changed. It was bit like when you feed Gremlins after midnight.
Eventually, three of us managed to wrestle him into the cat carrier. Daughter – who worked the original miracle on him and turned him into a pet rather than a wild animal – sustained the biggest scratches. We haven’t heard from his new owner so are rather hoping he didn’t escape from the carrier on his way to his new home and cause some sort of road traffic accident. Doesn’t bear thinking about really.
So that’s that. End of an era. Within a few hours our cats had twigged that he was gone. Pooboo has been rubbing around everything on the patio to make it his again.
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