Tag Archives: postweek2011

Happy Birthday Pebbles


Happy birthday Pebbles!

Our little black cat, Pebbles, the very Pebbles who inspired the name of this blog after I once again tripped over her  in the middle of the night, has reached the grand old age of twenty. We don’t know her exact birthday but we believe it to be somewhere around new year.

I remember the day we got her, and the reason why. Let’s take a walk down memory lane together, dear reader and I’ll share my story with you.

Lashes, little more than a curly haired and hazel eyed toddler suddenly and out of the blue  developed a profound fear of cats.  Hardly able to walk down the street without screeching like a banshee every time she saw one, we decided action was needed.

” We’ll get a little, cute kitten, everyone likes little, cute kittens, don’t they?”

“What? To scare her with  every time she misbehaves?”

“No, love. To help her over her fear of cats.”

So started weeks of trying to find a cat. The RSPCA had none, neither did the Cats’ Protection League. After a long trip out to a cat sanctuary, they told us they’d heard of a place near where we lived that had cats they wanted rid of.

We drove all the way back to visit the people with the spare cats.

It transpired that they already had dogs but had taken in a cat out of the goodness of their hearts. This cat promptly had kittens, and before they’d got rid of them all, one of the kittens had had kittens. These people were all catted out. If they never saw another cat again it would have been too soon. Their lives had been a mess of yowling, barking, fighting, pooing smelly animals ever since they’d done their good deed.

In we walked, “We’d like it to be a boy.”

“This is a boy.” they said as they thrust a bundle of black fur at us. To be honest if we’d have said me wanted a martian they’d have told us it was one.

For about a nanosecond, this little, black ball of fluff sat trembling in the palm of my hands. “We’ll take it.” I said, assessing the sadness of it’s situation rather than it’s suitability as a pet for our darling daughter.

As soon as the words were out of my mouth this harmless little kitten turned into a whirling dervish of the grandest magnitude.  It launched itself from my hands onto the sofa, bounced of the sofa and ran round the walls at lightning speed like Evel Kneivel riding the  wall of death. Off  the wall it finally came, by taking a flying leap halfway across the room onto  the curtains which it used as a springboard before  finally coming  to rest – hanging off the tv. It only came to rest there because it got a claw stuck and couldn’t move.   I think that the poor thing had had to fight to not end up as a dog snack from the moment it was born and had learned how to make a quick getaway. Certainly it’s survival skills had been honed to perfection and it was definitely nippy on it’s feet.

I walked over and plucked her ( Yes, her. Not him as requested) from where she was dangling helplessly in front of the television screen.

By now the owner had given up trying to tell me what a lovely wee thing it was and just looked at me wordlessly, imploring me with her eyes to take it away but obviously thinking we wouldn’t after it’s display of ‘cute kittenness.’

Of course we did take her, although we spent the whole drive home wondering what the hell we’d just done.

So that was the inauspicious way Pebbles came to be part of our lives. I’d love to tell you that she was the perfect pet, loving, friendly and relaxed but it would be a lie. I do think she appreciated us for giving her a peaceful and dog free home but   she has never got over her nerves and she continues to be  neurotic, anti social and aloof  but we love her.

Happy birthday, Pebbles.

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strolling, just strolling


STROLLING:  Flanagan & Allen 

Strolling, just strolling,

In the cool of the evening air,

I don’t envy the rich in their automobiles,

For a motor car is phoney.

I’d rather have Shanks’s pony,

When I’m strolling,

just strolling,

With the light of the moon above,

Ev’ry night I go out strolling,

And I know my luck is rolling,

When I’m strolling with the one I love.

(source: http://lyricsplayground.com/alpha/songs/s/strolling.shtml)

Aah, the council organised, Wednesday walks are back on. How I’ve missed them.

From April to October between thirty and 50 intrepid walkers, and me,  meet up in all weathers once a week to explore the hidden wonders of lovely Lancashire.

Tonight was week three. These walks are advertised as ‘a stressbusting two hour walk at a brisk pace.’

Brisk? A moderately paced jog is more like it  – and strolling doesn’t even come into it.  As for strolling with the one I love – it’d kill him!

There has been a definite improvement in my fitness levels though since I first started to do these walks, three years ago. Now I don’t feel like I am actually going to die as we race up every hill the walk leader can find,  and I don’t often have to stop for a breather.

Tonight we covered five and a half miles and it was magbloodynificent!

The bluebells carpeted the floor of the woods, the sun sparkled through the trees and off the water of the reservoir, the birds sang and the overall effect was that there was just a hint of magic in the air. Half expecting to see a fairy peeping out from a mossy tree stump I walked enchanted through the magic wood and was sad to leave it behind as we climbed up the hill back on to the moors.

Sometimes it’s just about perfect. Sigh.

It’d be fantastic if I had half a dozen lovely photographs to show you but we don’t have time to stop. Loiterers get left behind. I did snatch a couple of photos on my phone and then had to run to catch up with everyone else as they disappeared into the distance.

bluebells
sunset in the woods
in the woods

So I don’t have a lot of photos from tonight’s walk but I do have a few photos from the photo shoot I did for my friend and neighbour the other day. The puppy is about nine weeks old and is a cross between a belgian Shepherd and  German Shepherd. He’s going to be gorgeous later. He’s already quite gorgeous now.

Black puppy

The border collie is Mrs Woofy’s bezzie mate. I don’t know why as she took a chunk out of her last week which resulted in visits to the vet’s and lots of money changing hands.

Border collie