Comings and Goings (A review of the festive period).

It started with a photo of a cat...I looked closer at the WhatsApp...I didn't recognise the cat but I recognised the sofa it was lying on. The accompanying message from Anna, my wife, read: 'This is Pantoufle, she is now living with us.' 

Unlike the first ferrel cat we took in, this one didn't understand the rules about defecating outside, so now whenever I go out of the back door, there is a crunching of kitty litter underfoot, which the cat has sprayed about while trying to find a comfortable squatting position. She also has a penchant for piddling in the log basket.

Another reason to wear slippers chez Shaw is this cat is a playful biter. Like Cato in the Pink Panther films she will rush at me from behind the bathroom door first thing in the morning and latch on to a toe. 

After spending the last two Christmas days on our own, third time lucky. My son and daughter with their respective partners arrived having battled several UK picket lines. We spent a wonderful week mainly eating and drinking. If we ventured out it was to have an enormous meal somewhere or consume vast amounts of alcohol. The first job of the morning was to deposit the numerous bottles into the recycling box outside the backdoor (second job of the morning was to brush kitty litter from the bottom of your feet). The levels of consumption was shameful but we felt we were making up for the Covid years.

I am not a keen player of games; physically convulsing when I hear someone mention the word Monopoly. After a big meal I just want to lie on the sofa and watch telly... this was not an option. We played Perudo, Jenga, Qwirkle, Uproar... not to mention the obligatory Charades (Dr. Zhivago!). It was like the commonwealth games....a relief when someone suggested a Christmas movie...'Silence of the Lambs'?! 

Each year my dad will generously send us a couple of jigsaws (Wentworth Whimsies) which we enjoy completing. I must have done something to upset him as this year's puzzle was nigh on impossible. A 1000 piece picture of a plate of baked beans would have been a walk in the park compared to this bad boy. The picture was trees reflected in water, which was bad enough but the real killer was the pieces were all the same shape. After approximately ten hours of work we had completed three square inches and some of that was questionable. Even my daughter's boyfriend, who is a data scientist, was perspiring (he is six foot something in height and concussed himself several times on the various low beams around the house). 

After seven happy days it was packing up time. There was much sitting on suitcases to close lids and our little Dacia Sandero seemed considerably lower to the ground as it wheezed its way to the airport.

The only sadness over the festive period was the disappearance of our other adopted cat, Fabergé, who we have shared our French adventure with for the last three years*. Whether he took umbrage at the arrival of another cat, fell down a well or just doesn't like Christmas we will never know. One night he went out of his little cat flap and we haven't seen him since. We have wandered up hill and down dale screaming Fabergé, posted 'Have you seen this cat?' flyers into our neighbours letter boxes...but no sign of him. Wherever he is, we wish him well.

* I would like to apologise for the 'cat heavy' nature of this month's article.

Photo: Bon voyage Fabergé.