Lend me your ears – –

 

Jacks’ Wednesday guest blog post

There we were, on our way home on Monday night from the annual volunteers’ appreciation banquet at the prison where I visit every month. I’d noticed that Wendy had been busy on her phone for the last half hour and that usually means cats.

I should explain that I generally try to be the sensible one in these situations, trying to remind her that we can’t save them all and that the bookstore can only accommodate a finite amount while still operating in a customer friendly way. So I’m the ‘bad cop’ to Wendy’s ‘good cop’ much of the time.

Thinking this would probably be another clutch of tiny kittens I was gearing up to be my usual grumpy curmudgeonly self. But as we arrived home Wendy announced we were going out straightaway to find a feral cat that was hanging out in an area of town we’re not too familiar with. We had an address and the lady who Wendy had been on the phone with had offered to guide us to the place.

We arrived as it was beginning to get dark and began to search. No luck until Wendy’s phone contact came out and began guiding. In the darkness a very friendly white cat with oddly shaped black ears came straight to us. We had brought food and water and she made straight for them. Purring and most definitely not feral, so we had a closer look. Her ears weren’t naturally black – they were half eaten away and bloody. She was also scrawny but with a bloated belly. So she was injured, mal-nourished and pregnant!

We brought her back but couldn’t risk putting her in the same space as our own cats or the other fosters, so into the garage she went for the night. All this time she was happy to be picked up and carried in a box – as if she knew she’d turned a corner.

Of course the whole episode was being followed on FaceBook by a whole host of friends and fellow animal rescuers. One of them was our good friend Joe, who offered to come round in the morning to take her up to our Sainted Beth the veterinarian who never imagined she’d share so much of her personal and professional life with us.

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So now we know that Pogo (we called her that because she looked like a possum in the half-light) has melanoma on both ears, is completely flea-ridden and has a belly full of worms (so – not pregnant).

But all of that can be treated, although she may lose a goodly part of both ears in the process. Apparently she is about seven or eight years old and has obviously been a domestic pet. She either ran off and got lost, or was abandoned because of her ear problem. And to my astonishment, as soon as Wendy posted the update the next day showing Pogo relaxing in hospital, people began to offer financial assistance towards her bill. Which we know Beth will keep to the bare necessities, because she is a saint. But hey, saints and their nurses gotta eat too. Powell Valley Animal Hospital should you want to donate to her care. And we thank you from the bottom of Pogo’s sad little ear stubs.

I may try to lose Wendy’s phone, but she’d just get another one – bless her heart – – –

“Kids, Glorious Kids”

Jack’s Wednesday guest blog post –

Wendy and I don’t have kids – but – – –

Kelley, our chef par excellence married her true love Sam in February and immediately inherited a bunch of them, and has entered the role of parent with joy and enthusiasm. As have we, as surrogate grandparents. But we’re not the only ones, as our other friends Mark and Elizabeth (the goat herders) are also staking a claim and have these well-adjusted young people climbing on trees, feeding baby goats and being stand in grandchildren as well.

Despite not having any children, I have a plethora of nieces, nephews as well as their offspring and I delight in their doings of course. Wendy has a nephew and that gives her some insights as well.

But there’s nothing like kids running around your feet and we consider Asher and James, as well as Brook and Ciaran not to mention grown up Thom, as part of our extended family.

When my old singing partner Barbara was with us before and after ‘Big Stone Celtic’ a couple of years ago she and her husband Oliver immediately became stand-in grandparents too. They cheered them on at their soccer matches. My fond memory is of Oliver standing on the touchline dressed in typically English garb, complete with a hat, with a bunch of Asher’s team-mates circled round him. The players were obviously aware that he was an expert but couldn’t understand a word he was saying as he berated them. Completely illegal of course, to coach from the side while the game is in progress!

That’s children, though – they capture your heart. They don’t have to be yours, but they are part of the next generation and that does make them your responsibility too.