2013 - the year of the cat(s)

I'm probably supposed to be doing a serious, thoughtful year-in-review type post. In 2013 we've had a big job change, redecorated half our house and garden, watched relatives health seriously start to fail, had the best holiday in a decade, bought a fancy car and sent our kid into her last year of primary school.

That was easy! *g*

Actually, while reminiscing about the year what kept being mentioned was - and I quote the Spouse here - "those bloody cats!"

They are, without a doubt, the biggest change in our lives for years. It's a lot like having a toddler (or two) again. Toddlers that can fly. And climb the curtains. And claw chunks of fur out of each other. And break into the fridge and eat the raw sausages meant for tea.

Temple and Jones are house cats so they're here all the time. Relentlessly.  And Bengals can be bundles of energy and are known for their cases of the zooms. Normally when we've settled down to watch a film. *tuts* And they can be surprisingly demanding in the attention stakes. You know. Like children.

I've always classed myself as a dog person. Both being workers a pooch was never on the cards but I did not for one second even consider getting a feline. And when Chook started asking for one it just wasn't going to happen. But then I infamously met Jo Bearpaw's two Siamese cats and my views changed considerably in just those few short hours in her home with Simon and Lola. There's a very successful and well known Bengal breeder in our town. And the rest, as they say, is history.

I'm not sure when I turned into a mad old cat lady. But somewhere between February (when 4 months of sick kittens seemed to finally be over) and July (when I picked them up a day early from the cattery post-holiday) it had happened. This is my cat-Instagramming (Catagramming? Nah, that sounds like a medical procedure) just from December.

I totally understand why old ladies (and men!) keep cats. Well, cats like mine, anyway. (And make no mistake. Unbelievably they are MY cats. Or perhaps more accurately,  I am theirs.) They are incredibly intelligent, don't need walking like a pooch and are super affectionate but with a streak of independence that makes them less, well...less dependant than a dog. Which in a busy working home is not to be underestimated. I think the biggest surprise for me, though, is how strongly both have bonded within the family. There are no aloof cats here! 

Jones allows Chook to flip him upside down for belly nuzzles and is generally tortured by her constant cuddling of him. Temple is mine - not by design (he was Chook's choice from the litter and she named him) but he is often to he found in my vicinity, whether I'm blogging on the couch (he's at my feet as I type this) or in his hammock in my wee sewing room. And Spouse? Well after a shaky start - he and Jones had a hate/hate relationship for a wee while - we only get "bloody cats!" about once a week now. The rest of the time? They are "my boys" and Jones in particular is his big, daft teddy. Smitten? Yuup.

So there you have it, how in 6 short months a confirmed dog person can be transformed into a mad cat woman. Thanks to two irrepressible, energetic, frustrating, nosy, clever, affectionate, clumsy, loud, cuddly members of the household. Perhaps Spouse isn't the only one that's smitten, eh?

P.S. I'm feeling much better, thanks! With one helluva cough but not poorly anymore. Here's to a fabulous 2014 to us all!