My job is mobile and I split my time working alternate weeks in Norfolk and Nottinghamshire. I drive down country roads, enjoying rural England through the seasons.

Wednesday, 28 August 2013

Pussy cat pussy cat, where have you been...

Today we let Jasmine out for the first time since her big adventure.  Well, actually that's not true - I let her out yesterday afternoon, but when she headed straight for the gap in the fence, I blocked the gap up and brought her straight back in, and as she was barely out 10 minutes I don't think it really counts.

So, thinking about it, I felt I had the following choices - keep her in and force her to become an indoor cat; let her out with the gap blocked and wait for her to find another way out of the garden which might or might not give her access back into the garden later on; or let her out and unblock the gap knowing that she can get back as well as out this way.

In the end, there wasn't really a choice.  Jasmine is 11 years old, loves her forays outside the garden, and although she looks fragile and defenceless, she proved herself fairly tough after surviving unscathed through 4 days and nights out in the wild, coming home only slightly hungry and in need of a good sleep.  Her going missing was only the 2nd time she has disappeared for longer than a few hours, and even the first time I knew exactly where she was - she just wasn't prepared to come home until the children had left.  She hates children, an unfortunate result of being overly mauled in the name of love by my 2 godchildren when, as a kitten, her good manners stopped her from scratching or biting them when the girls snuck off and dragged her out from her under-the-bed hideout.

When she disappeared the other week, we had 4 nights of desperate worry and upset, hour upon hour spent walking the fields and calling, and a huge leaflet campaign mostly carried out by my fabulous sister and her hubby.  And it paid off; a dog walker spotted Jasmine on the edge of a cornfield over a mile away, and after a frantic 2 hours, I found her and brought her home - riding the dashboard of my car like the Queen of Sheba, letting me know that altho she was indeed very pleased to see me, she had, of course, been perfectly fine and able to take care of herself thank-you-very-much - I was so pleased to see her I decided not to mention that she had in fact been heading in completely the wrong direction for home.

She is totally spoilt, very much a surrogate child for me, and a grandchild substitute for my mum - an arrangement that suits everyone except my dad who feels he isn't quite spoilt enough in comparison.

So both mum and I pretended not to watch the clock or freak out when she went straight out and into the field behind the house.  But we were both very relieved when she came home safely after just half an hour - and gave her a little extra lunchtime ham as a reward.

Then we locked the door and decided that was quite enough freedom for one day - she can go out again tomorrow, by which time of course, we will be completely relaxed about the whole thing.