More Kitten Stuff...

I've been writing a lot of cat-related posts of late, but people have been asking me how Monsignor Furretti is getting along, so here's the latest...

I'm not a fan of allowing animals into church - guide-dogs excepted. However, I always get important things blessed - especially my cars (well, the way I drive...) and important books. I happened to ask if it was possible to get animals blessed. His Hermeneuticalness informed me that there was indeed a blessing for animals in the Rituale... admittedly, it was for flocks and herds, but...

He also told me that St. Martin de Porres had founded a hospital for sick cats and dogs. On the strength of that sort of saintly example, I asked if, on the Feast of St. Martin, Furretti could be blessed.

It nearly didn't happen - the night before, Furretti had a rather upset stomach, and I wasn't sure if a car journey would be a good idea. However, on the Wednesday she seemed a bit better, and so I popped her into the cat carrier and drove to Mass.

I didn't take her into the church, but left her in the car. After Mass, I brought her into the Small Hall, and gave her a saucer of water. Fr. Tim then blessed her - surprisingly, she didn't object to being sprinkled with holy water - but I couldn't take a photo, as I was busy ensuring that she didn't find her way into the vestment cupboards. Fr. Tim did manage to get a photo of her afterwards.

Since then, Monsignor Furretti has been making steady progress.

Sylvester was too big to climb onto small shelves, and he was getting arthritic, so didn't tend to jump onto anything higher than my bed. Anything (other than food) which I didn't want him to get at would be safe left up on a shelf. Now, however, no matter how carefully I put things away on shelves (often behind other, larger things), she manages to climb onto the shelf and hook the objects out. Pens, memory sticks, rosaries, alarm clocks... Yesterday, she sat on a bookshelf and deliberately hooked out three books from the middle of the row and pushed them off the shelf onto the floor.

Strangely, despite the many statues I have on my shelves, I haven't found any of them on the floor... yet.

Furretti also has her appetite back.

Note to self: even though prawn crackers bear no resemblance to prawns, Furretti likes them. Despite the Chinese takeaway packing them in polythene bags, Furretti will open the bag with a single swipe of her claw, and she will then proceed to hook out a cracker and commence chewing...

Flash Mob At Macy's...

I posted before on the Flash Mob (I think that's the expression) that sang for passengers at Heathrow's Terminal 5 (as a commercial for T-mobile.) It must be quite something to get caught up in an event like this... I never seem to encounter this stuff.

In a similar vein, the inimitable Fr. Z posted a Random Act of Culture performed by the Opera Company of Philadelphia at Macy's Department Store...



Great though it was, I'm afraid that the Hallelujah Chorus has never quite been the same for me ever since I saw this version...

500 Crosses For Life...

Click on the image for more details, but basically, several pro-life organisations are getting together to hold a procession to mourn all the unborn children killed through abortion. It starts at 1:30pm at Westminster Cathedral, goes to Westminster Bridge and finishes at Westminster Abbey. I assume that means the procession will go round Parliament Square to the Bridge and then back round to the Abbey.

Please support this with your prayers if you can't get there in person...

Latest Appointment To Congregation For Divine Worship...

Monsignor Furretti ought, I think, to be appointed to the Congregation for Divine Worship...

She has already shredded the (paper) tablecloth I had on my altar, and it occurred to me that her talents (and talons) could be employed more fruitfully in various sacristies...

...such as the one that housed this, for example...

Twitch of the mantilla to Bad Vestments.

The Progress of Monsignor Furretti

I was warned that Monsignor Furretti might go the same way as Cardinal Catzinger, and told to keep a close eye on her. Unfortunately, she is definitely not herself... she's off her food and much quieter than she has been. At the risk of conjuring up images of the Dead Parrot Sketch, I think she is pining... albeit for her brother and not for the Norwegian fjords...

I was advised to leave it for ten days before getting another playmate for her, just in case there was a viral cause behind Catzinger's death (see, I told you the vet didn't know.) Personally, I think I need to get another kitten as quickly as possible, otherwise Furretti will get bored and lonely. It won't be quite so bad once she starts to go out, but right now she's cooped up in the flat... and even when I'm home, I can't spend all my time playing with her.

I'm also finding it difficult to judge whether she isn't eating because she's pining, because she's ill or because she doesn't like the food. I've tried lots of different types... she's so little that I'm loathe just to wait until she's hungry enough to eat what's available. I was eating a steak pie two nights ago, and she seemed interested in that... so much so that she nearly took my finger off when I relented and gave her a little sliver of steak (she hadn't eaten all day.) I also gave her some of my tinned tuna... this morning she ate the catfood, but she hasn't touched it since...

I'm probably worrying too much, and she'll probably eat if she gets hungry enough. There are kitten biscuits available, and water as well...

*sigh*

In the meantime, here is the Dead Parrot Sketch for those of you who don't know what I mean by "pining for the fjords" !



The audio version had a different ending: Palin says: "I got a slug." Cleese asks, "Does it talk?" Then, in a twist, Palin replies "Yeah!" and so Cleese says "Right, I'll take that one then!"

Adverts...

Larry D's trip down memory lane with his breakfast cereals got me thinking about advertising. For quite some time before I finally ditched the TV, I was of the opinion that many of the adverts were better than the actual programmes. I rarely get to see TV ads these days, though there are plenty of bus shelter and poster ones around. But I still appreciate good adverts.

The psychology of it is quite clear: humour sells products (we all like to laugh) and "clever" sells even more successfully (we like to think we're clever enough to "get it"). Hence the success of the Silk Cut ads, which used the brand's colours (purple and white) and images of word play once the British government put restrictions on cigarette advertising which meant manufacturers couldn't say anything about the product itself (apart from the health warning.)

I was fascinated to spot an advertising company's debrief after the ad campaign for Silk Cut Ultra Light - due to the success of the original campaign, most people missed the "Ultra" references.

Anyway, I digress... I spotted a few references on Facebook to the latest T-Mobile advert, and how good it was. So, when I was checking out YouTube and I spotted the advert, I thought I'd have a little look.

It's great fun. I just want to know why nothing like this ever happens when I'm travelling... Definitely one of those feel-good video moments...

The Breakfast For Heroes Heretics...?

This contribution (at the end of some innocent childhood memories) from Larry D over at Acts of the Apostasy made me snort with laughter and scare Furretti...

Happy Feast Day...

Today is the Feast of St. Jude... and also of St. Simon, though he doesn't get much of a look-in. St. Jude was the first saint I really "got to know," and, although I have since made a point of acquiring as many patron saints as possible, he's one of my favourites.

You can read about how I was convinced of the efficacy of praying to the saints by checking out this post...

Sad News...

I got a phonecall from the vet this morning. Sadly, Cardinal Catzinger died during the night.

The vet thinks he had a congenital problem which didn't manifest itself until the stress of changing environments... I suspect that means that the vet just hasn't got a clue why the cat died. I've been advised to keep a very close eye on Monsignor Furretti, although, as she seems to have settled down, the vet thought it was unlikely she had the same problem as her brother.

Furretti appears to be determined to make sure she's kept a close eye on... she's lying across my chest while I type. Unfortunately for her, she's grown a bit in the past week, and, despite my generous proportions, she now keeps slipping off, much to her disgust...

Thanks for the prayers.

Education In Kitten Behavior - Lesson 2

Kittens, unlike elderly cats of 17 years, are extremely inquisitive. The shopping bags, which were safe from adult cat investigation no matter how long they were left on the floor, will be examined intently by kittens.

NB. Kittens have a very acute sense of smell. Do not assume that, because frankfurters are vacuum-packed in plastic they cannot be detected by kittens. Within ten minutes you will find that the frankfurters have been chewed...

Education In Kitten Behavior - Lesson 1

No matter how carefully you trail the cat toy around the floor, the kitten will take the shortest path of interception. If that path happens to be over your bare feet, tough. The kitten will not try to avoid them.

NB. Kittens, when changing from rough, high friction carpet surfaces to smooth, low-friction skin surfaces while in pursuit of cat toys, will not fully retract claws. Said claws resemble hypodermic syringe needles.

Feline Friends...

I phoned the vet this morning, and was told that Cardinal Catzinger was not showing any signs of improvement. He'd been sick, and so he was now on anti-sickness medication. Also, he appeared to be anaemic, perhaps because of fleas, perhaps because of worms. I pointed out that both kittens should have been wormed and de-flead on their visit on Thursday, but no-one seemed to have any record of it.

I was then advised to bring Monsignor Furretti back in so that she could receive the same treatment.

So, in the afternoon, I went in with Furretti. There was a different vet on (it's a group practice) so this was the third vet I'd spoken to. He admitted that he was expecting the worst for Catzinger - he was lying still, showing no interest in food, the IV drip didn't seem to have had any effect, and neither had the antibiotics. I asked if I could see him. We left Furretti in her cat carrier in one room, and went to the holding room where Catzinger was lying. He looked very sorry for himself. I stroked him gently, and he opened his eyes, but that was it.

The I heard Furretti miaowing in the other room. Catzinger appeared to stir, and tried to miaow back. I asked the vet if maybe I should bring Furretti in to see her brother, but he was of the opinion that it wouldn't be a good idea, especially if the illness was due to something viral. I bit back the comment which came to my lips, namely that, if she hadn't caught it so far, she was unlikely to catch it now. Feeling very sad, I closed Catzinger's cage and returned to see Furretti.

She was given the treatments for fleas and worms (both in drop form, applied to the back of the neck) and placed back in her carrier. I continued to discuss possible ways forward for Catzinger with the vet. He was, I could tell, trying to prepare me for Catzinger dying.

In mid-sentence, I stopped. "I heard Catzinger miaow," I said. "No," replied the vet. "There's another cat in the waiting room."

"No, I'm certain it was Catzinger."

Then Furretti miaowed, and there was an answering miaow from the next room. We both dashed over to see Catzinger, sitting up in his cage, and miaowing back at his sister, who was miaowing up a storm from the other room.

I haven't ever seen anything like it.

The vet was still adamant that Furretti was best kept at home, as he didn't want Catzinger to be over-stimulated, although he confessed himself encouraged by his response. I have to phone back again later to see how he's getting on. Furretti cried all the way home... though, in retrospect, it may be because she doesn't think much of my driving...

Prayers would be appreciated...

Caution! Competent Organist Might Be Required For Papal Mass...!

Oh dear, oh dear... I did wonder how on earth the Papal Visit organisers managed to avoid using something like the "New Israeli Mass Setting" or the "Mass of Creation" for the setting of the Papal Masses at Bellahouston Park and Cofton Park. It seems that, for once, the Bishops had a bright idea, and the news got out before the "liturgists" (sorry, should that be "performers" according to the helpful sheet given to the media?) managed to squash it.

I find it incredible that an objection to MacMillan's new Mass setting was that a competent organist would be required to play the accompaniment... I mean, I know organists are rare, certainly there are fewer good organists than guitar-strummers, but, well, for the Papal Mass, you think finding a competent organist wouldn't be too difficult... there might be one or two in the whole of Scotland who'd be willing to turn up...

A liturgical committee... That explains why they had those repeating bits - despite James MacMillan having told us at the Faith Summer Session that he hated verse-response stuff.

Worried...

My two cats have got very different personalities. Monsignor Furretti is into everything, and purrs at the slightest provocation. She is very demanding, and follows me everywhere. Cardinal Catzinger appeared quieter than his sister - and I assumed that, behaviour in the shop notwithstanding, Furretti was the dominant cat. I did my best to hold Furretti off while feeding cat treats to Catzinger, just to make sure that things were "fair."

By Monday afternoon, I was worried. Catzinger just seemed to get quieter and quieter. I encouraged Catzinger to sleep on my shoulder while keeping Furretti curled on my lap, but it was becoming obvious that Catzinger just wasn't very well, and that it was more than simple personality differences and difficulties in settling down.

During the night, Catzinger seemed unable to settle. He tried to be sick a few times, but didn't bring anything up other than a little fluid. I made a "den" for him, a nice, dark cave for him to hide in away from his more boisterous sister, and he crawled in... though, by morning, he was curled up at the foot of the bed. However, he wasn't comfortably curled up... he just looked all wrong.

He didn't miaow, and, more worryingly, he didn't purr. He wasn't interested in food.

Wondering if I was panicking unduly (I am not used to kittens - as I missed out on Sylvester's kittenhood, I have nothing to which I can refer back) I phoned the vet which had microchipped and innoculated him on Thursday morning. The only appointment available was at 10am. Mentally working out where the speed cameras were, I promised to be there. I thought it might be better to keep the cats together, so both Catzinger and Furretti went into the cat carrier.

The vet wasn't sure what was wrong with Catzinger, but agreed that he was a very sick-looking kitty. "I've never seen a kitten so quiet!" he remarked. Furretti was also examined, and declared to be in good health, though (as I suspected) very underweight. The vet was willing to take both cats in (to keep them together), but I thought that she might prove a little too wearing for Catzinger if they were both cooped up in one cage, especially since Catzinger would probably need to be put on a drip...

I wondered if I'd made the right decision, though, as Furretti cried all the way home. Part of me didn't want Furretti to feel she'd been abandoned again (I figured that Catzinger was too ill to notice) and a selfish part of me didn't want to be without any cats... but, now that we're home again, I think I made the right decision. Monsignor Furretti is currently balanced on my chest, fast asleep, while I type.

Catzinger is still at the vet's - I rang to check on his progress - and no-one is quite sure what is wrong with him. The vet will phone again later. I shall keep you all informed...

My Daddy Taught Me Good...

My father died when I was 15. I was his little girl, and there were a few things he thought I should know. One of them was how to defend myself - and, to this day, I remember his demonstration...

"If attacked from behind," he told me solemnly, "stomp on the man's foot, hard, so you break his instep, then move your elbow sharply back into his solar plexus... also, don't punch a man on the chin. You're a girl, and that sort of knock-out needs a lot of force. Hit him on the nose with the heel of your hand, sharply upwards, to break the bones and drive them into the skull... oh, and stick your fingers into his eye sockets. Right in..."

I haven't ever had to make use of the advice, fortunately. But I was reminded of it by this little snippet from Creative Minority Report - a news report of a robbery attempt which got turned into a musical masterpiece...





My daddy also taught me what to do if I was in a hostage situation and the SAS made a rescue attempt.* I have no idea why he felt that was necessary fatherly advice, and so far I haven't had to use that either...


* Just in case you are interested - "Get down on the floor when the stun grenades go off, keep your hands open out in the clear, and don't move until you're told to!"

Watching The Keys Of The Kingdom...

This lunchtime we were privileged to see a screening of Keys of the Kingdom, produced by Christian Holden. We had a screening of a previous DVD in the parish, Arise Once More, about the history of Catholicism in Britain. The new film concentrates on the Papacy, answering some common objections to its existence.

It was an excellent film, marred only by some beautiful weather - the Small Hall doesn't have blackout screens! However, the images used were beautiful, and the music for the soundtrack was especially stirring. I put up the trailer before, but it's brilliant, so you can see it again!



I particularly enjoyed a comment from one of the contributors, Stephen Ray - he commented on the Catholic Church having the fullness of Truth - "Trust me," he said, "I've tried the others..."!

Chatting to Christian Holden afterwards, I found out that there is a new film on the cards - albeit only in the planning stages at the moment - this time on Our Lady. Christian said that it was one he's been planning for a long time, but, of course, now it's on the blogosphere, it's official!

St. Anthony Communications has lots of DVDs, CDs and books, on the teachings of the Church, but also one or two other titles - I see that Master & Commander has made it onto their catalogue - so, with Christmas approaching, you might want to explore their site in search of stocking-fillers!

The Quarant'Ore Continued...

I found it hard to tear myself away from the kittens. I managed it, though I felt awfully guilty. I consoled myself with the reflection that they had plenty of food and water, the flat was nice and warm, and they had each other for company. I also thought that it wouldn't hurt to get them accustomed to the fact that I'm usually out all day. I did wonder whether I'd have any statues left by the time I returned, but then realised that most of my statues are actually bigger than the cats...

Anyway, off I went. The Mass on the second day of the Quarant'Ore is a votive Mass for Peace. I thought it would be a Low Mass, but it was a Missa Cantata - no mean feat, given the limited space available. I took one or two photos, mainly to show off the beautiful vestments, but didn't have the best of angles. At least this time I didn't need to photoshop anyone out of the picture!

After a brief interlude in the Parish Club, I returned at 11pm to the church for a night of watching. I had brought my Office, a biography of Teresa Higginson, (she introduced the devotion to the Sacred Head of Our Lord) a book on the early development of the Mass, a book on novenas and indulgences, and I had my rosary, but in fact I hardly used them... I have no idea where the time went!

During the night, several of the candles needed replacing, and I was the most sacristy-savvy person around. I was unwilling to go clunking up onto the Sanctuary - the crutches made me even less agile than usual - so I had to direct various people to retrieve the candlesticks for me one after the other, and bring them to me in the sacristy. Unfortunately I had forgotten that what looks like a reasonable-sized stump of a candle from my vantage-point in the pews is, in reality, a very short stump of a candle... Sometimes there wasn't enough candle left to get a good grip, and I ended up with very hot wax on my poor fingers, fingers already tender from being chewed by razor-sharp kitten teeth. I had to remove some candle stumps by pulling on the wicks... and sometimes I had to resort to gouging the stumps out using a pair of scissors...

The Mass for the end of the Quarant'Ore, like the one at the start, is a votive Mass of the Blessed Sacrament, so it has the same texts as Corpus Christi. The Litany of Saints was sung, the Blessed Sacrament was carried around the church in procession, and then we received Benediction... after which Our Lord was reposed in the tabernacle. Again, just as we found last year, having been privileged to be so close to Our Lord, there was a definite sense of loss when it was all over, and the Blessed Sacrament was once more hidden from view.

Anyway, I thought I'd share some of my photos...

One of the things which struck me at the end of the Forty Hours' was what a tremendous blessing it was to have this as part of the parish calendar. It is very special, and yet it isn't a "special event" - at one time I'd have thought that the Forty Hours was something for which you went to a Cathedral, or an Oratory, or a Monastery... but this was just our own parish... As such, people could come along just for ten minutes on their way to work, or for half an hour at the end of the day... Our Lord was just there, waiting... which, as Fr. Tim mentioned in his sermon, is one of the things which the Quarant'Ore reminds us - Jesus is waiting in the tabernacle of every church, every day, just waiting for us to remember him.

If you do get the opportunity to go to a Forty Hours' devotion, make the most of it. Go along. Five minutes, an hour, a Mass, or an afternoon... I'll bet that, whatever time you "plan" to allow, you'll find it hard to tear yourself away. God is never outdone in generosity, and he just waits to give us his blessings... but we have to remember to ask!

Back To The Cats...

Well, you didn't really believe you would get off so lightly, did you? Oh, foolish, foolish person...

I had to play with the cats when I got home. Well, they had probably been snoozing all day, and so it didn't seem quite fair to go straight to sleep. When they eventually curled up on the sofa, I decided that it might be a good time for me to get some sleep. No sooner had I gotten into bed than I felt a soft little thud, and found that Monsignor Furretti had joined me. Cardinal Catzinger arrived shortly after.

I didn't sleep well... I think I was unconsciously afraid of squashing one or both of them... One ended up asleep on the pillow by my head, and one curled up under the duvet - it was pretty cold last night. Every time I changed position, I became aware that my toes were providing entertainment. And, no matter how soundly asleep the two appeared to be, each time I got up to go to the bathroom, I was followed...

They are fascinating to watch. Cardinal Catzinger, in the animal pen, appeared much bolder than the smaller Monsignor Furretti, and, indeed, he made the first move in the adoption process. However, now, Furretti is definitely more active and demanding. Catzinger is quieter. Furretti will follow me about, almost at my heels, while Catzinger will wait to see what is happening, and then, once I've settled, he will make his move.

Neither of them ate very much yesterday, but by this morning all the food I had put out had been eaten, and they were keen to have breakfast. They don't appear to be so keen on the biscuits... that might be the brand - Sylvester wasn't too keen on them either. He much preferred the special biscuits I bought from the vet... Hopefully these two won't need a special diet for quite a few years yet...

Ok, a couple more pictures...

Monsignor Furretti has longer fur, and very long, curly whiskers, and her fur actually appears to be slightly brown in places. It is possible that, as she gets older and fills out a bit, her fur may darken... or she may go brown all over... I'm not quite sure how fur colour works in cats...

Cardinal Catzinger, on the other hand, is a sleeker, shorter-haired cat, and his fur is jet black. He reminds me of Sylvester, but without the white patch...

I shall keep you all informed...

Blackfen's Quarante'Ore Under Way...

I did manage to drag myself away from the cats...

I thought I better put some pictures up from the start of the Quarant'Ore at Blackfen, before I lost all credibility as a Catholic Blogger.

It was really awesome. The Mass (a votive one of the Blessed Sacrament) was beautiful - and we had more candlesticks this year, the extras on loan from the Parish Priest of Chislehurst. Fortunately I had remembered to collect them. His Hermeneuticalness informed us, during the sermon, that the Jansenists used to insist, in their attempts to avoid ostentation, that there should be no more than 40 candles. Fr. Tim took great delight in pointing out that we had more than 40...

I didn't want to leave the cats alone all night for their first night, so, after a brief pause in the Parish Club for a coca cola and a chat, I stayed only for an hour, and then went home...

A Hunter Shoots A Bear...

...actually, he doesn't... unless you want him to.

This has to be one of the most awesome adverts I have ever seen. It's for Tippex, the correction fluid... though it's not fluid any more.

Play the video and then decide what you want the hunter to do. Even if they don't have that option, it's very, very funny. There is some bad language at the beginning, which is a shame, but...



By the way, that reminds me... How do you know that a blonde has been using your computer?

Easy. There's Tippex all over the screen!

While My Toes Are Being Chewed...

Having been out all evening at the start of the Quarant'Ore devotions at Blackfen (with a brief interlude in the Parish Club... it's thirsty work singing the Litany of Saints!) I didn't feel it was fair to go straight to sleep...

I'm sitting in front of the computer with one kitty playing catch with my toes, and another perched precariously on my lap. The latter is watching my keyboard with interest... she will probably try to update her mouse skills shortly.

I just thought I'd give a new blog a bit of a shout out - Linen on the Hedgerow was started a little earlier this month by Richard Collins. It's good stuff, and he needs encouragement, so do pop on over and tell him I sent you!

I wonder why he chose that particular name for the blog...

Another Cat Post... Sorry!

Well, actually I'm not a bit sorry.

If you have no interest in cats, I suggest you ignore my blog for a week or two. I have two new kitties, and I guess that I'm smitten enough to want to show them off to the whole world.

If my stats go down, so be it. Of course, you might miss the amazing photo posts I plan to do for Blackfen's Quarant'Ore, which starts tonight.

The kitties arrived earlier today. I allowed them time to explore on their own, as I had stuff to do. When I got back in, I fed them... or, rather, I attempted to feed them. Neither of the cats was interested in eating. As Monsignor Furretti is a little on the thin side, I wasn't very happy about that. However, the two little furballs have had their jabs this morning, and have been microchipped, and I was warned by their carer that they might have upset tums today.

They did. Mind you, the cats are so small it was hardly a problem. Somehow they looked bigger in the shop...

I thought I might be distracting them, so I left them in the kitchen by the food bowl, and went to sit down in the living room. Within two seconds I had been followed in. One cat jumped up onto my lap, and the other lay on my shoulder and arm. Both started to purr. And then they went to sleep.

After half an hour of sitting still, I had to get up. Cardinal Catzinger wasn't impressed, but he accepted my apologies (in the form of chin-tickling) and the two cats are curled up on the armchair - taking up less space than Sylvester did on his own - while I'm typing this. I did manage to get a photo or two...

I am just a little reluctant to go out...

*sigh*

Mad Cat Lady...

I have to say that I was a little discouraged by the response from the cat charity I phoned. I understand that they want their cats to go to good homes, but the person who spoke to me was very negative about my wish to get a cat who would be able to go out.

I wondered if they had rather a lot of indoors-only cats they needed to rehome. I can understand this attitude, but the owners' needs do have to be taken into consideration. I really do want cats that can go out - I would feel less guilty about being out at work for long hours.

In the com-box, Genty reminded me that there are plenty of other cat charities. I assumed that they would all have similar procedures, but, on impulse, I phoned one up, just to see what sort of response I would get.

A very different attitude, it seems.

"Please do come in, we have lots of cats needing homes. See if there's one you get on with... we can do the home check when we deliver the cat."

So, today I popped in to see the cats waiting for someone to adopt them. There was one very demanding feline - absolutely beautiful - and he was desperate to be let out of his cage. I like "chatty" cats, but was warned that this one was on his own in a cage because he didn't get on with other cats, and needed a home alone. I was tempted, but I really wanted two cats to keep each other company during the day.

There was a large, walk-in cage with several cats lying in beds and sitting on the shelves. I was encouraged to go in and handle a few cats. I was anxious not to scare them, so I left the crutches outside the cage, and hopped in. One big ginger cat made a bid for freedom - I didn't chase after him (I couldn't) - and he hissed and growled when one of the other cats approached him. As there are several cats in our block of flats, this didn't bode well for garden interactions.

There were two tiny kittens, very cute, but they looked as if they needed serious one-to-one care - they were terribly timid, and were licking my fingers as if they wanted mum. Too needy.

A slightly older cat got up and he moved towards my hand, purring. I'm a sucker for a purring cat. I stroked him, and he rubbed against me, and stood up with his front paws on my arm - the shelf he was on was at waist height. I picked him up, and he lay on my shoulder, rubbing his head against my chin. His litter-mate, very shyly, got up to investigate, and she also started purring and rubbing against my hand.

I was totally smitten. The helpers commented that the two cats never normally behaved that way - I did take that comment with a large pinch of salt - but I felt that I had, nevertheless, been approved by the feline adoption committee.

Having gained my full attention, the two cats, in true cat fashion, promptly decided to ignore me and go and have a nap. I recognised my place, and left to sort out the paperwork...

The cats are about four months old. It seems that they were abandoned as kittens in the stairwell of a block of flats - one with an entryphone system. It's difficult to tell a cat's sex at that age, but I was promised a definitive answer by the time they arrive - they had already been booked in to the vets for jabs and microchipping tomorrow morning, so they will be brought round to me in the afternoon. I was a little concerned that I would be out for quite a few hours each day for the first couple of days, but was reassured that letting the cats explore the flat on their own for a bit would actually be better for them...

I did manage to take a couple of photos before I left.

And so, I am proud to introduce Monsignor Mastai-Furretti... (yes, probably female, but she'll be neutered, and she looks like a "Furretti")

...and Cardinal Catzinger !

They're beautiful, and I couldn't understand why they hadn't been snapped up sooner. However, it seems that black cats are particularly hard to re-home. Superstition is one possible explanation, another is that tabby markings are considered prettier. A final explanation was given by the manager - she'd had people say that there were lots of black cats in their area, and they were concerned they wouldn't know which was theirs...

I figure that the cats can figure it out quite easily...

Anyway, I think I am now a confirmed member of the "mad cat lady" club...

Puzzled...

Taken from an article in the Catholic Times in September 2008:

"From the time of the apostles Peter and Paul there has always been disagreement in the Church, and it is often vigorously expressed – but, 'in all things charity.'"

No prizes for working out who the writer was. However, I am puzzled by the distinct lack of charity he shows towards those who criticise him.

Fr. Clifton first amended a post, following a phonecall from Mgr. Loftus, but to no avail. He then wrote:

"I regret to inform you that I am faced with an impossible situation. Mgr Loftus has refused to accept my apologies and threatens me with action in civil and church courts. As a result I am very worried..."

And then there is the threat to sue Fr. Ray Blake:

"The Monsignor threatened to sue me for suggesting that he was a heretic, if the comments were not removed within 7 days..."

It seems that a British court is unlikely to uphold any such suit (check out the explanations given by Fr. Tim Finigan and by Dominic Mary.) Nevertheless, the attitude shown by Mgr. Loftus appears to contradict his previous comment.

Not so much "but, in all things charity" as "anything but charity."

Kitty Lady To Visit...

Well, I have taken the next step in the Kitty Acquisition Task. On Thursday, I shall be visited by someone from the cat charity I had contacted, to see if I am a suitable person to adopt one of their cats.

Apparently, my address, on Google Maps, looks as if it is too close to the main road to allow me to have an "outdoor" cat... I pointed out that there is a large communal garden around the back, and the cat flap leads onto this garden, and that there is a large grassy verge (with bushes and trees and stuff) in the front courtyard, but it's not looking good.

I still hope to be able to give a rescue cat or two a good home...

In the meantime, I better get some housework done...

Sad...

I have been very saddened by the turn of events over at Fr. Clifton's blog. It is a shame that he feels he may have to stop blogging. Leutgeb has summed up the situation rather well.

I also think that Fr. Blake's post has much to commend it...

A Little Kitty Humour...

This brought back memories of the time I caught Sylvester tucking in to a cup of my sweet, milky coffee - something I make as a bedtime drink, and the only time I use "instant" ! I have to admit that I was a little shocked... I mean, I knew Garfield liked coffee, but...

...and just in case there's anyone who doesn't get the Garfield reference...