The story of my puddy cat


I am not all about extremely simplistic rhymes and the odd piccie you know. Plus I think I banged on about my new doggy more than enough now so I will tell you a little bit about my cat. (by the way I also have two children who I love dearly above all else, I have included photographs of them in here but I don’t speak about them much for no other reason than, they are my private and very precious life).

My  puddy cat is a very complex creature. I did not get her as a kitten, so she never had that playful and silly time with us, she never had that playful and silly time full stop from what I gather. She is not playful, full stop.

She came to me at four (same age as my dog) and her name is Belle. When I found out that she was being kept in a garage and the owner wanted rid and that was pretty much enough for me. I had never had a cat but I just felt like nobody, nothing deserves to live in a garage. I will not lie I had a fair few reoccurring bad dreams about cats from a very early age so actually owing a cat was quite scary for me.

When she came to my house she hid for the longest time, she never came out until the dead of night to dart to the food that had been put out and dark back to her hiding place. My children were amazing they kept their distance from her and allowed her to just come and go until she was ready.

It took a year for her to waltz into a room and she is proper quirky, she took THE longest time to get used to the kids and now she happily sleeps on their bed and mine. She now (which I was told by her previous owner would never happen) loves to be petted and made a fuss of and she also said you will NEVER be able to pick her up, I pick her up all the time, she happily allows me.

We call her the race horse because she will not stroked directly, that makes her too nervous. You have to hold you hand up and allow her to jump up to be stroked and only after you have done that a few times will she allow you to literally follow her around the room lavishing love upon her. She moves the goal posts all the time.

So, now I have got a doggy. Not just any doggy, but a doggy who see’s small fluffy things as fair game. Why would I do that to her?

Well, because as I saw in her nature I also see in him, that he has no interest in her at all. She is the one who is pissed off with me and him but I know with patience and very structured meetings within a year she will learn that not every human or animal wants to hurt her.

The first night Jack (as he is now called) came home, she did not come back and I found her in the middle of the night in the back garden sleeping behind a fence. I brought her in (against her will, a bit ) and put her safely upstairs. She slept and felt safe. in the loving arms of my daughter.

Next day I fed her and let her out and later that day I brought her in with the dog being held and contained, she was not happy and wanted to get away but she calmed down because he showed no interest in her. I then let her back out with the upstairs window open so she had a place to feel safe.

Today we had more of a breakthrough, she happily came into the garden and to upstairs. She knows she is safe but she is just doing what she did when I first brought her here, she is protecting herself from her past.

Slowly, slowly catchy monkey…. She will come round, she did with us and we were all so alien to her when she arrived in my life. In less than a year my doggy will be nothing more than the children she had to get used to back then.

When you acquire an animal that has been through a life not well lived until the point it reaches you it takes an enormous amount of patience. That patience pays off a million percent. Do not ever give up on a rescue.


4 thoughts on “The story of my puddy cat

  1. Given time she’ll show Jack who’s the boss. She is. Cats are always the boss. Dogs, by their nature, are always subservient. (In my house, all the cats are boss and I’m just their slave.) Once the pecking order is established, you’ll have a happy house again.

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