Village Squire, 1981-04, Page 17SIX ACHERS
For feline fanatics
Last month you heard about Astra,
daughter of an amoral Sheltie. We had no
sooner adapted our lifestyle to accommo-
date the dog than friends who bred
Himalayan cats asked if we would like to
purchase one of their kittens. We
adamantly refused to consider such a
proposition -cats are arrogant, independ-
dent, destructive and unteachable.
We could just imagine what a Himalay-
an would be like. A breed originating
from the mix of Persian and Siamese
would obviously combine the supercilious
disdain of the Persian with the atavistic
proclivities of the Siamese. Thanks, but
no thanks.
We almost melted when we saw the
kittens, miniature lambs with white
woolly bodies and tiny dark faces.
Fortunately, the entire litter was soon
sold.
Immediately, we had second thoughts.
Did we want Astra, now a year old, to be
an "only pet"? Did we want her to grow
up spoiled and selfish, or should she
learn to share? With the perversity of
human nature, Don and I now wanted a
Himalayan kitten more than anything
else in the world. We voiced our yearning
to our friends and they, being good
friends, promised to see what they could
do.
Within a month they had found a
nine -month-old blue point female. Even
the price was right. Blue Pandora had
been reduced for quick sale because she
had outgrown the appealing kitteny stage
and progressed to teenage felinehood.
We also promised to have her spayed.
Our friends brought Pandora over and
deposited her, in her wire travelling case,
on the kitchen floor. For 24 hours we kept
her caged, while Astra examined this
strange creature from all angles, huffing
and puffing, sniffing and snorting, and
threatening dire and dreadful deeds
when bars no longer protected the
intruder.
The cat ignored us all during her
confinement, spending her time eating,
sleeping and preening. We opened the
door of the cage with trepidation, ready to
leap to her rescue.
Pandora marched out as if she was the
Queen of Sheba, long thick tail canopied
royally over her back, enormous blue
eyes surveying her subjects with proprie-
tary interest. Astra was astounded,
conquered and subdued without offering
even token resistance.
The dog is now resigned to unprovoked
attacks, launched from ambush, after she
returns to the house from her early
morning constitutionals, or sudden
swipes from a furry beige paw as she
ambles innocently past a chair. The two
girls are fast friends, although Astra
would be embarrassed if people knew
that she and Pandora sleep together.
Pandora had been house-trained as a
kitten, and we had no problems until a
few months ago. Soon after our son
changed the kitty litter, the cat began
using our bathroom. Not the facilities -the
floor! Don said something must be wrong
either with the cat or her box. I checked
the litt er, reporting it only slightly used,
but remarked that I had never seen such
strange -looking kitty litter. Neither had
Don. He had forgotten to tell Colin that
he had stored some very expensive red
clover seed in a plastic bag inside an
empty kitty litter bag!
Pandora is the only creature we know
of who found herself "in clover" and
didn't like it!
Our pet has taken over the house.
While we watch TV, she sits on top of the
set with her tail hanging over the picture
tube. On our TV, everyone wears a
coonskin cap and looks like a reincarna-
tion of Dan'I Boone. Another attention -
getting perch is the top of the silverware
chest, which is on top of the china
cabinet. She reaches her throne by
leaping from the curved walnut back of
our prized Jacques Hayes antique gentle-
man's chair. Long vertical lines trailing
down the side of the cabinet bear mute
evidence of cat mis-claw-culations.
While I talk on the phone Pandy either
sits saucily on the dining room table just
out of my reach, or comes over to the
drop -front desk and begins to hook paper
clips and stamps out of the pigeonholes. I
can never find a pen, and all my address
labels have toothmarks in them.
The sheers are snagged, the top of the
orange plush chair has been disem-
bowelled, and the chesterfield is looped
where it should be smooth. Our aristocat
is fast reducing our castle to hovel status,
but we are still her abject slaves.
by Yvonne Reynolds
Everyone who loves cats will under-
stand, and those who don't think we're
crazy. Although our pet was named
before we got her, we recall the legend of
the original Pandora, who loosed all
manner of evil on mankind, but also
freed Hope.
Our Himalayan has the best traits of
both parent breeds. We have never heard
her growl and, like the old Bon Ami
chicken, she has never scratched (us)
yet.
By the way, when you come for a visit,
wear beige. Both dog and cat shed
constantly. and if you are not attired in
that colour when you arrive. you will he
when you leave.
Yvonne Reynolds and husband la retired
CAF officer] share six rural ucrt's with
one hastily bred part Sheltie. one
Himalayan aristocat. one peasant cut.
and an ever-changing number o/ Bantle
chickens and Saanen and Nubian gouts.
"The place to shop in the
Festival City."
Authentic Tartans
'Woollens•
•Silks•
•Cottons•
Many fine fabrics
Come in and
browse at
your
leisure.
sew eukgt
88 onto, io st 271.8500
q•w /Ally • •.m.1:110 y_w. Fridays 'lll • p.m.
VILLAGE SQUIRE/APRIL 1981 PG. 15