Sunday, July 15, 2012
Harry's drama
Two blog postings today - keeping the travelogues separate from my rambling life.
We were up early - should we go out?
It wasn't just the weather (starting to rain) that caused doubt.
You see, I was beginning to fear that we might no longer be cat owners. Does one ever actually own a cat?
Our Harry had a very bad fright yesterday. Just an unfortunate juxtaposition of events.
Our friend who visited had a dog - the dog needed some food. OK - take the dog to the garden and sort out its needs. Bill took our cat to a bedroom - but Harry knew something was severely amiss and shot down the stairs and out into the garden as fast a bullet out of a gun.
Therefore cat and dog met.
"Woof, woof" barks the dog and would have loved to be able to jump up to where Harry jumped up to escape.
Harry was terrified.
We knew we would see no more of him that afternoon.
But later we knew where he was and he was very wet. Bill dragged him from his spot and brought him in - and then he disappeared. No, Bill didn't disappear!
I have been out calling - "Harrykins, Harrykins, puss puss, miaow" - feeling silly of course.
Anyway - what could we do at seven in the morning? So, in pouring rain we drove to Brighton. I was determined to find a few things to buy at the car boot sale....and I did, second time around.
We had a cup of tea and toasted tea cakes in The West Quay. There were lots of yachts making their way out of The Marina for yacht racing.
I was quite looking forward to walking out on the sea wall to take some yachting photographs.
But events forced me to change plans (bloomin' bag!).
So we drove straight home - but I didn't lose out on my photography addiction. I have prepared an illustrated guide to our journey home on a blog posting immediately after this one.
We have idled for much of the day. I found it hard to put my mind to things....where was Harry?
I imagined him dead of a heart attack, dragged away in the night by a fox. I decided to give my heart until 6 o'clock before jumping to any conclusions.
Six o'clock came and went.
Be brave, I told myself. It isn't really such a big deal.....not compared with the trauma a family are facing right now, for example, where the wife tumbled from the cliffs at Beachy Head.
Half an hour later.....Harry appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
He had not come in from outside. He must have been upstairs all the time.
He gladly received cuddles and a bit of food and then went back to his safe nest, which seems to have been under the head board of our bed.
He spent some more time up there, but has just come down again. he is very wary of everything, but seems to have decided it wasn't our fault.
Now scroll down to see the travelogue part of the day.
We were up early - should we go out?
It wasn't just the weather (starting to rain) that caused doubt.
You see, I was beginning to fear that we might no longer be cat owners. Does one ever actually own a cat?
Our Harry had a very bad fright yesterday. Just an unfortunate juxtaposition of events.
Our friend who visited had a dog - the dog needed some food. OK - take the dog to the garden and sort out its needs. Bill took our cat to a bedroom - but Harry knew something was severely amiss and shot down the stairs and out into the garden as fast a bullet out of a gun.
Therefore cat and dog met.
"Woof, woof" barks the dog and would have loved to be able to jump up to where Harry jumped up to escape.
Harry was terrified.
We knew we would see no more of him that afternoon.
But later we knew where he was and he was very wet. Bill dragged him from his spot and brought him in - and then he disappeared. No, Bill didn't disappear!
I have been out calling - "Harrykins, Harrykins, puss puss, miaow" - feeling silly of course.
Anyway - what could we do at seven in the morning? So, in pouring rain we drove to Brighton. I was determined to find a few things to buy at the car boot sale....and I did, second time around.
We had a cup of tea and toasted tea cakes in The West Quay. There were lots of yachts making their way out of The Marina for yacht racing.
I was quite looking forward to walking out on the sea wall to take some yachting photographs.
But events forced me to change plans (bloomin' bag!).
So we drove straight home - but I didn't lose out on my photography addiction. I have prepared an illustrated guide to our journey home on a blog posting immediately after this one.
We have idled for much of the day. I found it hard to put my mind to things....where was Harry?
I imagined him dead of a heart attack, dragged away in the night by a fox. I decided to give my heart until 6 o'clock before jumping to any conclusions.
Six o'clock came and went.
Be brave, I told myself. It isn't really such a big deal.....not compared with the trauma a family are facing right now, for example, where the wife tumbled from the cliffs at Beachy Head.
Half an hour later.....Harry appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
He had not come in from outside. He must have been upstairs all the time.
He gladly received cuddles and a bit of food and then went back to his safe nest, which seems to have been under the head board of our bed.
He spent some more time up there, but has just come down again. he is very wary of everything, but seems to have decided it wasn't our fault.
Now scroll down to see the travelogue part of the day.
