The Rest of the Family

This is Murphy, our cat. He is a rescue cat we got from the RSPCA almost 2 years ago. He was about 8 months old when we got him so we reckon he's not quite 3. His previous owners had decided to move house without taking him and two other cats. They had left them behind in an empty flat with no food or water. No one knows how long they were left alone but Murphy had a rather scrapped up nose when we got him probably from trying to lick the condensation off the window. Murphy was a replacement cat for Kylie who went missing the week between Christmas and New Year. We're not quite sure what happened to him but I have some suspicions that these boys who often lurk in the fields around our house using their dogs to chase and kill rabbits might have harmed him. Although Kylie was a bit of an evil cat (eg he used to grab Seb's head claws out when he was a baby crawling around) I was devastated. When I saw Murphy in the the cage at the RSPCA, I fell in love instantly. Murphy is the sweetest of all cats. He's cuddly and talks to us and is ever so good with the children. He's never not once hissed, scratched, or clawed any children or furniture. He is even getting on really well with Bailey. Although, there is a bit of "what were you thinking" looks being shot our way.

Finally, this is Frank. We used to have Frank and Toby. In fact, we used to have quite a few goldfish. Seb was given a tank and a pair of goldfish for his 3rd birthday after being captivated by the tank at his Popa's house. What were we thinking? The first thing Seb did was pour his milk into the tank thinking if it was good for him it would be good for the fish. Sound reasoning. Bad result. We went through 5 sets of goldfish before Frank and Toby arrived and lived to tell the tale. They had lasted for over 2 years. But Toby bit the dust, or went swimming belly up, a few months back when we changed the water. Funny thing though when we went back to the tank to remove Toby, he was gone. Frank ate him. Strange explanation but the only one we can think of. Murphy has no access to the tank. And Toby was certainly in no shape to jump out of the tank. So in a way, Toby lives on.....in Frank.....literally!

Last night Marc took Murphy to a Puppy Party. OK, so now our pets have social schedules. The hope is that a properly socialised pet will be a calmer, less agressive dog. We have quite a few friends who have jumped off the cliff and acquired puppies over the last few months. I am thinking I should maybe host a puppy party in the local park. Have I lost my mind? There are children dying all over the world of disease, genocide, famine and I'm hosting a puppy party. I feel frivolous......and fortunate.