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| My early years are a bit of
a blur and probably best forgotten. My resurrection began when
I made my way into a garden and was found by a nice lady who
passed me onto Cats Protection. I should say at this point that
I had three kittens with me from my last litter, all now re-homed,
and, as far as looks went I seemed to be well overdue to have
another litter. Whew! Foster Mum said that I looked like I had
a rugby ball stuffed up my jumper. |
Well the kittens went one way
and I went another, what a relief. I landed up in a nice pen
with lots to eat, (no more scavenging to keep body and soul
together) a heated bed, en-suite toilet, (I didn't’t like
going down the pen stairs in the dark), peace and quiet and
lots of TLC. My foster mum and dad were going away for a few
days (his birthday or something) but the TLC and spoiling continued
from their neighbour, and foster mum phoned twice a day to see
if I’d had my babies.
When they came back and nothing had happened it was back to
the Vet and after a lot of prodding and poking and an x-ray
it was shown that I wasn't pregnant after all. Then
the fun started trying to find out what was causing my hard
and bloated tummy. All sorts of blood tests and samples were
taken, as they were querying something nasty called Feline
Infectious Peritonitis.
Fortunately it and all the other viral tests came back negative,
or I might have been on a one way trip to the Great Cattery
in the Sky, not to mention the follow up and testing of my last
litter of kittens. |
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Back to the Vet I went, this
time for surgery. I don’t understand all the technical
details but I seem to have more intestine than I should have,
my liver is a bit swollen (not the gin I assure you), and my
body fat is an odd colour. The good news is that I can’t
have any more babies now! Mind you the Vet reckons I’am
pushing 10 and if I were human then I would be in the record
books having babies at my age!
Foster Mum took me into the house as I was getting pretty bored
and she was feeling the cold sitting out with me, even with
her thermals and coffee. It was –16c one night! Once
inside, paws under the table, I decided to settle down and
make myself indispensable so that in time I might get to
stay. The tactic seems to have worked and I was formally
adopted on Valentines Day. I’ve got the 4 resident
cats and 3 dogs knocked into shape and Mum has me on a special
diet of Royal Canin, which has a high fibre content and gives
my gut something to work on. I’ve lost weight and got
some of my figure back. Mum is now threatening me with a “tummy
tuck”. The upside
of the diet is that I hardly need to get my bum washed now.
I was so fat that I couldn't get round to do the
necessary, and I must admit that I was quite “pongy” because
of my chronic diarrhoea |
I was given the name Pudsey
as my arrival coincided with the BBC’s Children in Need,
and Mum reckoned that I could do with plenty of bandages. I
had fleas, ear-mites, a tapeworm, a blind and dirty eye and
my whiskers had been cut on one side, not to mention probable
pregnancy and the aforementioned chronic diarrhoea.
I now spend my days following the sun and Mum round the house,
or lounging in front of the Rayburn in the kitchen, and at night
I sleep in a nice cat bed in their bedroom. The duvet comes
later! I haven’t ventured outside yet, but I’m keeping
my hunting skills up to date with cat-nip toys.
Cats Protection worked for me and I plan to make the most of
the rest of my life. THANK YOU! |
| UPDATE |
| Since I last
put paw to paper I have been quite overwhelmed by the
interest shown in my story. Thanks to every-one who got
in touch with Mum. I am considering setting up a fan club
and getting my own web site, but the Inverurie CP one
will do meantime! |
My progress has been maintained thanks to my special high
fibre diet. I’ve lost that podgy barrel shape, got
some definition in my leg muscles, my coat is nice and
shiny and I’ve got loads of energy. I’ll never
be Twiggy - I’m more of a Hattie Jacques type.
That said, now that I’ve started to venture outside,
I’ve rambled round the vegetable garden, dug up
the seed tatties and the onions to check how well they
are growing, commiserated with the latest incumbent of
the cat pen, Humphrey (what kind of a name is that?) and
shown off my new skills by climbing up on the roof of
a shed.
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Mum nearly
had kittens, and while Dad went for a ladder I shinned
down the other side.
Keeps them on their toes! |
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| I’m sleeping on their
bed at night along with Poppy the Burmese and Susie the Tabby,
and in the morning Hamish the Deerhound joins us when Dad gets
up. During the day I rest where I can! |
| (PS Pudsey is a joy
to have in our home. Whatever has happened to her in the past
has not affected her sunny nature and even disposition. We have
found that she is not keen on having her eyes cleaned, which
may relate to her damaged eye and cut whiskers, and when my
husband walks about wearing boots she scuttles off as if avoiding
a kick, makes you think! Pudsey’s Owner) |
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