What is she on about now?

 Tigger came to me as one of the original six as told in Cats- The Spanish Chapter, part 6 The Spanish Invasion. She arrived along with Mezcla with whom she remained close and her other best pal was Fat Stripey. Fat Stripey stopped being so fat, and "OMG! Tigger" stopped doing the OMG! thing with her eyes and also got fatter, so really I might as well have changed their names to reflect the fact that Tigger had become the fattest stripey.

I'm writing this one in the past tense because yesterday, 6th October 2015, I said a very tearful goodbye to Tigger (and by default to a number of others).

A lot has happened since I last wrote about them all. If you followed the site or at least started on the home page, you will know that my motivation was largely to entertain my dear friend Reanna who, dying of cancer, wanted to hear my tales though I'm still humbled by that more than I can say. When she died, I ran out of steam and the subsequent movements of me and the cats went unrecorded, although there were tales to tell and now it seems a right and proper time to say something.

When last I wrote, I was living down near the river in Nerja with Jude as my next door neighbour and former cat/house sitter Daniel two doors down where he could get flooded but I couldn't. I just had the road washed away once instead. But I digress, which regular readers know I do.

Things took a definite turn for the worse with different people in the house next door, which is not suitable for discussion on here. To cut a long story short they drove me nuts and some very malicious things happened to Jude, and we decided out was the only way and since there were no other conveniently place neighbouring cortijos, we would share a house, and so we did.

The move inevitably took me about a week what with all my furniture, stuff, stock and err have to count up how many cats......so up went my UK four, no problem, then I started on the Spanish lot a couple at a time, Titch, Shadow, Amber all in cat carriers of their own, then Fat Stripey, Tigger and Mezcla as a three in the big cage I had brought the UK four over in. As in BIG. The plan was to put their food in there so they got used to going in and then shut the door behind them. I shuttled back and forth to the new place but slept at the old one to give them more security while the new lot had the run of my room and Jude for company in between her doing the bulk of the unpacking and a damned good job she did even if I never did find where she put half out stuff. Well, not for a while at least. So the cage and food was working well, and the timetable was those three had to go that particular day, and in went Mezcla all cocky with an air of ha! I know where the food is, Tigger always just a wee bit cautious, and Fat Stripey who I could have just picked up anyway. Bingo.

I shut the doors. They all stopped, looked, froze - and went mad. They literally pinged off the walls and roof. Clearly I am not going to do anything to calm this lot down so there was only one thing for it, drag the cage straight round to the back of the vanette where it needed lifting up to get it in. Again, not much more damage possible so another only one thing for it, lift one end, at which point they all fall down the other end in a heap temporarily suspending pinging off the bars, and heave the other end up and in. Slam the door, drive off to slightly more than the regular howling and complaining one expects when moving cats in cars. Come ON guys, it's less than 10 minutes journey.

We arrived and I opened the back of the van. Tigger more than the others is literally shaking. Traumatised. Feeling again like there is no way to apologise here, I open the cage and walk away, Fat Stripey comes out and clears off to do whatever a newly arrived Fat Stripey feels, and the other two huddle in the cage shaking. When next observed, Tigger was out. But unfortunately treed by one of next door's podencos who perhaps twice ever got into the land adjoining us both, and this just happened to be one of those two occasions. So there is my fattest, most recently arrived and totally traumatised cat 20 foot up a tree in land which is totally fenced and inaccessible to me. Not much point in saying sorry really..........

Meanwhile, Mezcla disappeared out of the cage. We went out in the van. There was a meow. We came back in the gates and looked. No cat. We tried again, another meow. Looked a bit harder. Mezcla, under the dashboard, accessed through the top rear of the glove compartment and only room to poke her with a stick to get her out. Seemed to me I'd done the easy ones and been lulled into a false sense of security and I'd still got two more to go.

Last day, the two ginger ones to get, cage baited with food,morning feed. Maramalade, but no signs of Ginger. Same in the evening. Eventually had to bring Marmalade on her own and never saw Ginger again nor did anyone else down there.

Everyone settled in, and mostly things went well, there was a lot of covered space at the new house and they soon found favourite places, Tigger, Fat Stripey and Shadow occasionally snuck into the living room for a snooze. Shadow once came literally flying over the hedge and missed the pool by an inch and when we had stopped laughing we figured the man with the podencos had rescued her and sent her home as it were........and when Pickle came home dripping wet we figured she had been in the pool. They all seemed happy and well.

Amber went missing and came home swaying and thin, 4 days at the vets was inconclusive and she just got better but was always a bit odd. There was of COURSE a garden cat, one of a distinctive and definitely inbred family of black cats in that vicinity, and ours was Sooty who fixed us with a baleful glare and demanded food in return for regular evil glares and a lot of hissing and spitting. Then the next thing was she was bulging at the seams and we agreed a) we were too lazy and too squeamish to catch her and sort things out and b) we would rehome the kittens as we would be sure to make friends with them. However she inconsiderately waited until I was in the UK and Jude was working all hours before producing 5 kittens who were a couple of months old by the time I got back and had learned the basics, ie evil stare, hissing and spitting, but the entire family agreed certain sun loungers were theirs and they would like two meals a day thankyou.

There was a problem with the kittens, three jet black almost indistinguishable, and one more jet black with a deformed half tail, and one smoky grey. So temporatily they became Kitten, Other Kitten, Other other kitten, Stumpy and Smokey. Kitten was slightly bolder and slightly bigger. Then either Other Kitten or Other other Kitten injured his/her leg and became for a while Peg Leg which worked fine until the leg finally mended and before you ask, naff all chance of getting near enough to check the injury or take to the vet. Not long after that one of either Other Kitten or Other other Kitten/Peg Leg morphed into Snotty Kitten as it appeared snotted up to the earholes literally and eventually carted off to the vets ad being unable to breathe works wonders for slowing them down a bit.  Thought it had recovered after a few days when no Snot visible but not long after I observed a dead black cat in the inaccessible land where Tigger was once treed. I assume Snotty did not survive after all. The only plus was it made it easier, Kitten, Other Kitten (whether or not it was the original Other, ot Other other) , Stumpy and Smokey. Still all ace hissers and spitters and no nearer friendship than fly despite long talks eyeballing Sooty explaining the need to visit the vet for a start before it all happened again and promising the food and security she had become accustomed to and which naturally had been extended to the little ones.

Almost a year ago, we poddled off down to our nearest bar which is at the motorway services - quite the norm in Spain where services are wonderful places to eat drink and relax as well as buy fuel, however unlikely this sounds to the UK motorist. It was a nice 20 mins downhill but a slightly inconvenient 25 mins back uphill. A short way into the journey we were joined by a small patchwork cat which used to hang around the bins and bus stop, who proceeded to fall into step with us. Jude had seen her there many times. It seems she must have been waiting for someone like me with the invisible word MUG on my forehead. To my credit, I ignored her, I really did, and offered no encouragement, even saying "Go away" with a small inflexion suggesting I meant it, but to no avail and past a certain point it was more damgerous to chase her away than allow her to continue (still without encouragement) so she did. Welcome to the women's refuge, I said, as sh dived onto my lap and purred her little head off. And thus arrived Squeak, who did a lot of that, along with purring and playing. And when we posted an ad saying anyone lost this cat, we both had our fingers crossed........

And so by accident, and with no chance of rehoming the little wild pests, I now had something like 18 before small black one died. Not in the plan but did wonders for my mad cat lady image.

I'd say they were all happy there, more so than the previous place. They had toys, favourite sticks which they cuddled as well as scratched, games to play, including I discovered the most innocent looking pair of Tigger and Fat Stripey hanging off long things on the washing line, and there was me thinking the wind had blown the pegs off........neither of those two ever had the frivolousness or naughtiness of Mezcla or Shadow.

But all good things come to an end, and Jude returned to the UK to work and the rest of us muddled along for a bit until she said she couldn't come back at all, and so we had to move again. I thought I'd found the perfect place in the natural park near La Herradura, looked so right for them but what did I know. Six months on (and three of those spent in the UK) it had turned into the place from hell and 5 of my cats I had worked so hard to catch and transport there (and on my own this time) had disappeared without trace, only one unidentifiable corpse ever seen and nothing to be sure it was one of mine either.

 I had such trouble getting everyone to that place as well- fine for the ones I could just pick up but Mezcla and Tigger were already stressed as soon as they saw that big metal cage. It took me 4 days to get Mezcla, just an extra one to get Tigger, my heart bled for the little one alone, scared and hungry but I needed her to get into a cat trap this time and no way, she was just too clever and therefore stayed hungery and lonely until I managed to get her to swallow a tranquiliser in some food. Huge relief but she immediately disappeared from the new house the following day and judging by some nasty noises in the night a couple of days later, came to a sticky end. Tigger, I might add, recovered well from another trip in the cat despite the inevitable trauma, and took to sleeping outside on her own on a chair or indoors on a chair under the kitchen table, but she never really joined in without Mezcla and even with Fat Stripey. If I had problems catching some of my original Spanish cats, imagine trying to trap and transport Sooty plus four mini Sooties who all think having your hand off would be suitable reward. I actually had to do that twice by the way, as they all needed neutering before moving. Interestingly Kitten who had become increasingly bolder turned overnight into the biggest cuddle puss imaginable and since he clearly identified Napoleon as his role model and annoyed the hell out of him following him around, had to have a more suitable name and became Nelson. Other Kitten changed her name to Tiny as the smallest of the brood. So it did seem quite an achievement to leave no cat behind. And Sooty turned back into an overprotective and ever vigilant mum which delighted Stumpy, Smokey and Tiny who despite being 9 months old were still mummy's cats and spent all their time together or calling each other.

So Mezcla disappeared immediately after all the stress and effort of making sure she wasn't left behind alone. She was always hungry and such a pretty, playful girl. Always there looking at you with those great big eyes if you had food or sat down looking like you MIGHT have, please, I would like a small piece, thankyou so much, I never got used to being able to have food regularly, I can't tell you what happened to me before you came but nobody loved me or looked after me, but no you still can't touch me, I am still too scared for that.......everytime I sat down, I missed her. Shadow, the brains of the original take over squad, the brilliant naughty lovable loner ever since her little ginger mate disappeared, she lasted just three weeks before I never saw her again despite reassuring her it was ok she was still just as special and I had told her in particular right from the very start that she would be mine and I would take care of her. She hadn't really settled since we moved and it bothered me.

I went to the UK for the summer and when I came back, Amber had been gone 2 months, Fat Stripey at least a month and Sooty was nowhere to be seen. More reasons to get out as soon as possible. There was an un-neutered grey Tom used to pick fights with all of my lot and steal food but there was also, while I'd been away, a lovely little black female with big eyes and long legs who wouldn't come near me but came in to play with Nelson and Tiny, who had moved indoors in my absence and who finally allowed me to stroke her. Due to circumstances beyond my control and some of you will know what a terrible time was had at the place, I have had to leave without Tiny and her friend. And somehow I have to stop worrying about them as well as wondering about those other five. I know my girls and they have not gone in search of a previous home nor likely to have transferred alliegance elsewhere even if there had been much choice.

On the move again and similar problems with those who cannot be handled. A very happy week in which everyone has settled very quickly and it seems like fortunes have finally turned for those of us still together.

Until approx. 1.20am on 6th October when all hell broke loose outside on my terrace. I woke with a start and rushed about to find the keys and open the front door to be confronted by the sight of two big dogs mauling Tigger and I cannot describe the sounds. I can't even say whether they dropped her and ran off or whether I grabbed her, but grab her I did and she bit me down to the bone in shock, pain and sheer terror. I held her in my arms with blood dripping everywhere (from me) and brought her indoors. When I released my grip she escaped and limped under the sideboard where it was hard to reach her and from there limped into the kitchen and under the base unit cupboards, right into the corner. I phone the local vet. and one who was nearer but didn't understand what I was explaining about where she was so I could not reach her. The first one talked me through waiting for her to come out and assured me that the terrible noises were more shock than pain and if she was dying she would be quiet. When she finally came out, I bundled her up in a soft fleece and put her in a cat carrier and called the vet again so he would come to the clinic. At approx. 4.45 I left her with him, sedated and being cared for. He sent a text at 5.20 to explain what was good and what was bad and would inform me later. Whatever you think of Facebook I had posted an SOS which got me three friends who stayed with me through one of the most horrible nights of my life.

I went to the market as I have to earn to live let alone pay a vet's bill. MY phone had turned itself to silent - it has a mind of its own, smart indeed. Just as well really because when I got home and read the texts I was in bits. She died, totally unexpectedly, as they were preparing for surgery. He was so sorry and would find out why. I felt still in shock and here was another one, my big fat furry silly old girl, the last of the first six Spanish cats, just as she had seemed so happy and comfortable - the last photo I took of her was her stretched out on the sofa over a cushion looking so relaxed, the absolute last one will be from the vet, asleep for the final time and a message to all dog owners - THIS is the tragedy you inflict when you fail to control your dogs. My lovely lovely girl was minding her own business sleeping outside on the terrace as she loved to do. From her injuries I'd say she was running away and they caught her or she was hiding under something and they dragged her out. I will never ever get over this any more than running over my poor little Whiskers (that's back in the English cat tales if you want the details. 

I am not just crying for my poor fat stripey cat who never did anyone any harm (except long things on the washing line) but for her friends an companions, the two she cuddled up with from time to time, Mezcla and Fat Stripey (another lovely, innocent soul who was a totally harmless and lovable girl), Amber who had morphed into a bossy mother figure who slept on my bed and groomed Fat Stripey, Marmalade and Titch, sat on my head and tried to groom me, and Sooty the most dedicated mother who might finally have learned to trust me properly, I promised her I would see her right, and her kittens, and I've tried.

I've loved every one of them, they are all special and characters in their own right. Everyone tells me they are my biggest problem in terms of freedom to come and go or just to move, like I don't know that? But you don't abandon them, ever, unless you have no choice, and I never set out to have any of them - they came to me, and whilst I always agreed that there was rather an impractical number of them, no way would I have wanted the numbers to go down the way they have. It sound kind of ridiculous but I feel I should be looking for more of them than there are now. when I took eight to Claire's while I moved, and kept Sooty's lot, I kept wondering who was missing, who had I left behind by accident.