I have accepted my fate...

...and I freely admit that although it has happened a lot sooner than I thought, I am officially a Cat Lady.

This is not a future I'd planned; in fact as a 'dog person', it's not what I'd expected at all- but hey, life has a habit of doing that- often the plans you had for yourself get waylaid as the Universe decides to gift you with something completely different along the way.

Obviously, Mooncat was acquired because I was desperate to have a pet of my own, a creature to care who doted on me as much as I doted on them, and a moggy was the only thing I was 'allowed' given my circumstances at the time.

However, in the past few weeks, I've been working long hours to get some overtime in before Christmas, meaning poor Mooncat has been alone from 5am until 5pm, and he was bored senseless. Bear in mind this is a cat I've been spending time with constantly, so he has a small array of tricks and games that he's been taught and is used to more than the average amount of human interaction. Take that away, and you've got a very frustrated cat.

I'd come in from work, feed him, spend half an hour playing about with him, and then it would be time for my dinner, and then bed. Moon was not a happy bunny. In what I think was a carefully thought out revenge, he hung out in the attic bedroom I usually reserve for guests stopping over, and tore open the bean bag he usually sleeps on.

The first I heard of this was about 3am one morning, when I could hear him chattering to himself and things moving around upstairs. I got out of bed in the dark, stuck my head upstairs, carried him into my room, and fell back off to sleep.

Welcome to Mooncat's paw-crafted Winter Wonderland- fun for all the family! £5 admission plus a visit from Santa Claws
The following day when I got home, Mooncat emerged from the landing to greet me, completely covered in polystyrene balls. They were everywhere. Obviously, the static had caused them to stick in the first place, but as he moved he left a trail of artificial snow behind him, and that was all over the house. There was polystyrene in my bed, the shower, my make-up bag and the kitchen sink.

I took the photo above by leaning over the top of the attic stairs and that angle does not accurately represent the depth and spread of the polystyrene. Mooncat lay next to his creation proudly whilst I said every swear word I knew.

The cat is obviously bored! I thought to myself on the way to work. A few hours passed and that developed into perhaps I should buy more cats so he has some company? This internal debate continued until I gave in to myself and rang Moggies. 

'I'd like to adopt a cat please,' I explained. 'I'm not bothered about it's age, colour, size or appearance, and really don't care if it's got three legs and one eye. All I ask is that you select a cat for me that's very friendly and mischievous, as it will be a companion for my cat at home. And if you have any pairs of cats you would like to keep together, I'm probably the person you should give them to.'
That Friday evening, I turned up to collect my feline mystery prize, which turned out to be a pair of kittens.

The sisters are the the remaining pair from a litter of four found in a local car park on a shoe box. They were so young when they were dumped, their eyes hadn't even opened. This has led to the smaller of the pair getting an eye infection, which has given her a cloudy left eye. She's had extensive vet's treatment and she can see through it, but obviously it is not as crystal as this kitten deserved.

I know it's a long shot, but if you're the person who dumped this litter, you've already surprised me by reading this. Secondly, if you own a pet, it's your job to get it neutered. I know that's a long and complicated word, but if you ask your mummy, she'll explain to you. 

Finally, if you are the dumper of kittens or indeed any animal, I sincerely hope that on Christmas day, you experience both a rectal prolapse and the UK's first case of super human combustion in over twenty years. In front of your family. At the dinner table. And whilst you're bleeding and burning simultaneously whilst your children cry and your partner frantically dials the emergency services, I hope you realise what an asshole you actually are.

Anyway, climbing back off my soapbox, I paid my donation to Moggies and brought the kittens home for Mooncat. I proud unveiled the box and opened the door, and Moon took one look and buggered off upstairs. The kittens walked out into their new home, the smaller one disappeared whilst her older sister spent the evening climbing in my hair and suckling my nose.

I was on the phone to Tim explaining my purchase, whilst searching all the rooms in the house for both Mooncat and the missing kitten, neither of which appeared again until the following morning. After the first twelve hours, I decided on names. Sticking with the Mooncat theme, the larger kitten is now Space Cat, an avid explorer who does not yet understand gravity. Her sister is Milky Way, firstly because of her eye being cloudy and secondly because like the real Milky Way, you know it's there somewhere but you can't always find it.

It's taken four days for the kittens and Moon to make friends, and now they have, they all adore each other. He is less bored with Milky Way constantly nuzzling him adoringly, whilst Space Cat treats him like a feline bouncy castle and he doesn't seem to mind.

Space Cat in the background and Milky Way- both still in this photo - a rare occasion if ever there was one.
So now there's me and three cats, and believe me I'm at my limit. Any more felines in the house and I really will be able to kiss goodbye to a future, instead being shunned by locals as children make up urban legends about the ginger cat lady. And I really didn't have that factored into my life plan.