A photo of the new cat taken a few days ago.
No more "B" names, a reader said, I've lost 4 furry friends with names starting with "B" this year - Baloo, Baggy, Bobby and Bosco. Not that I am superstitious with letters or numbers, but I don't mind paying heed to such observations as "there are more things on heaven and earth that is dreamt of in our philosophy", as the Bard would say. I wouldn't foolishly challenge things that I do not know enough about.
So I need a name, and James Bond comes to mind. I had in the past named two dogs after James Bond's actors, ie. Sean (survived distemper and is thriving under Charlie's care now) and Roger (an old black dog who surprisingly got adopted by a couple in Klang), both Klang Pound rescues. So we've used Sean Connery and Roger Moore, and next would either be Pierce Brosnan or Timothy Dalton. I know there's a new James Bond now, but I cannot for the life of me remember his name or his face (Sorry! Me cavewoman from ancient times...).
Timmy it shall be. No "B"s even in the surname. "B" is taboo for this year.
This afternoon, there was a terrifying war cry in the porch. I went out to check and it was Timmy growling at poor Rosie. Rosie was scared, but stood her ground. After all, the porch belongs to Rosie now. When I went out, Timmy ran away. And Timmy has found a way into our compound - he broke the netting on our gate. My husband says Timmy (or any cat for that matter) cannot possibly break the netting which he had fastened. Hmm...
No photos of Timmy because everything happened too fast...
But there are photos of Rosie and Ginger, though.
Here's Rosie having her dinner yesterday.
Rosie is very considerate as she would keep looking back for Ginger to come join her.
They both LOVE, LOVE, LOVE raw meat.
But they are very big eaters, so after raw meat, it's kibbles.
Brother and sister would even share from the same bowl. Aww...
My brood - no way you'll ever see that happening. Everyone's an alpha.
Snow White's been coming back. I guess she has delivered (yes, we heard the mewing of baby kittens sometime last week - it's probably in her house, so it should be fine). Looks like the owner has released her again. Oh dear....not a good idea as Snow White has a tendency to enter people's houses and some neighbours don't like that.
This evening, there was a HUGE war going on at the Stargate. It was between Cow and Ginger. Ginger has been coming to the Stargate to make friends, but Cow would hear nothing of the sort.
Cow was so angry, he skipped dinner. Even that bowl of food (you see in the photo) failed to cool him down. He was so angry, he was quivering all over.
Bunny came over to help his brother in the fight, of course.
And Tiger? Er, what are you doing there, Tiger? It's a war, Tiger.
Maybe Tiger came to share some Gandhi philosophy to make peace?
As you can see, Ginger is absolutely unperturbed.
I'm worried about Bunny, though, because when he gets himself worked up, he will get a fever. Then, I'll be the one panicking.
By the way, you see the green netting in the photo above? That was where Raven came through at midnight, many weeks ago! We had to wire-net it that night because she had mange and she kept coming in. The rest, of course, is history.
And while this war was going on...
Cleo was having her raw meat dinner.
Cleo always eats last as she wants to dine alone and away from everyone else. Cleo is a loner and is quite anti-social.
By now, the war cry was so bad, I heard a neighbour slamming his/her door many times. Ok, I understand, so water gun to the rescue. Bunny and Tiger ran away when I shot the water gun at the threesome, but Cow did not move an inch. Gosh, talk about persistence...
The water gunned ones.
The taking-a-stroll-after-her-private-dinner-and-kindly-do-not-disturb-me Calico princess.
Wars have nothing to do with me.
My silly brothers...they never learn.
I'll be safe here, I'm near my Ma.
The other way to stop the fight was to feed Ginger, so I did that.
It's raw meat with wheatgrass.
This is Rosie's dinner, but she did not come tonight. I wonder where she is. She was here all afternoon. Maybe she was frightened off by the war cries.
I must show off (ahem!) my latest pride and joy.
I learnt a trick too - you must place a thin layer of soil over the wheatberries - it grows better this way.
This is my 3rd pot.
After Bunny got shot, he came inside the took it out on the two tabbies.
Poor Tiger and Tabs.
Yes, you. You with the Bunny-face.
This is where Indy would always be - next to me.
Indy is more of a dog than a cat. I think it's because he remembers two near-death experiences where I stayed with him and nursed him. Once, when he was first rescued from the drain with eye-ear-bladder infection and where the vet exclaimed, "Oh no...this is BAD!". Second, when we almost lost him last year and I camped out with him at the hospital. We still do not know, until today, what was wrong with him. The vet decided to classify it as "unexplained".
In fact, we think Indy could be blind in one eye (it doesn't reflect light) due to that childhood infection or maybe even deaf in one ear. He cannot hear very well too. The vet also thinks he's a kidney case. Dr S says Indy's pulse is so faint he almost has no pulse.
Never mind, we shall cope...one day at a time.
Good ol' Indy!