Comings and Goings MK 2

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. 

This is just one of the many changes in my life since my last communique, dear reader. What else has happened? Oh yes...sadly 'project chicken' has come to an unfortunate end. The four chooks we purchased from Saint-Maixent-l'Ecole market, have now all died. No, I cannot blame Br'er Fox, they became ill one by one and shuffled off... They had stopped laying anyway, last summer, and we haven't had so much as a boiled egg since July 2022. 

On the plus side we don't have to stagger out to lock them up, in all weathers, late at night. Anna is also using their coop as a storage unit. I'd like to think, while alive, they wanted for nothing; they had the biggest enclosure in Christendom, the hen house was cleaned once a week and top-notch deluxe chicken food was lobbed at them twice a day. 

Other developments, Anna has become a high-powered business woman. The house we renovated is now an Airbnb and is doing a roaring trade, she is a 'super host' (nothing to do with Covid). The down side is she is never without her mobile phone which pings and vibrates constantly. Not an evening goes by without Anna announcing “I have another booking, ka-ching!”. Like Alan Sugar she sits on the sofa wheeling and a-dealing. I wouldn't mind but she insists on reading all her texts out loud. My viewing of Gardeners' World will be interrupted by“Gabriel is booking one night in July, for three people, who are doing the Compostela...rather them than me”, or “Guillaume, from Belgium is enquiring about the parking as his mother has a dicky hip”.

Just as winter came and went so family and friends visited us over Christmas and Easter respectively and we're looking forward to Anna's family descending upon us (again), from Australia, in the summer. The levels of consumption were shameful but we felt we were making up for the Covid years. The first job of the morning: deposit the numerous bottles into the recycling box outside the backdoor, second job of the morning: brush kitty litter from the bottom of my feet. 

With all the socialising and meals out, the old waist line has taken a bit of a hammering, loose fitting clothing and tracksuit bottoms feature heavily in my spring collection. 

The only sadness has been 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 us, 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.

Final coming and going. We would like to wish Kathleen and Chris the very best with their stewardship of 'The DSM' and Tony and Lynne health and happiness. We salute you.

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