Run Free Ali and Little Boy

I didn’t know what to do, or even what to say other than hold Lynda after her traumatic lost this afternoon.

I got a phone call from my neighbour mid afternoon telling me his maid had phoned him and told him that the dogs had killed one of our cats so I dropped everything and rushed home fearing the worse. Chocking back the tears, I phoned Lynda as I was leaving  work and she too rushed home.

Arriving home I found everything eerie quiet, no cats, no neighbour's dogs, and my dogs acting nervous. Three cats where outside Little Boy, Shammy, and Ali, when we left for work this morning but I searched and found none of the cats anywhere so I went to the neighbour’s place to seek out the maid to ask her where our dead cat was but she would not answer the door. Eventually the neighbour’s young daughter answered the door, she must have been sick as she was not at school, she told me that their pack of Jack Russells attacked our cat by our back door and that the maid put the body into a bucket by the door.

Lynda arrived by the time I had walked back to our kitchen door and together we found a poor cat ripped to shreds dead in a bucket. It was so bad that I didn’t even know which cat it was at first and a sobbing broken Lynda had to identify Little Boy. Thankfully the cats that were inside and our dogs were all accounted for but now we started looking for the two missing cats praying hard that they had managed to escape the viciousness of a pack of dogs.

At first I found the one of the cat’s safe zones, all messed up and turned over by a mob of dogs by the look of the patio but no cats, then arriving at the other safe zone I found Ali’s body lying there in the dirt all messed up inside the safe zone. Those %#^@!&^ Jack Russels broke through into the safe zone and poor Ali didn’t stand a chance. Fearing the worst, Lynda and I search and searched for Shammy and nothing.

We buried Little Boy and Ali and then widened our search into the veld around our property. During our widened search area, I spoke to the farmer next door and he said he saw a cat flying like a bat out of hell past him fleeing a large dog commotion on our property inside the cats safe zone and that the cat continued fleeing into the veld. Thankfully this meant that Shammy was alive although not out of the woods yet as the veld is kilometres large and big bad jackals call it home.

Sadly we had to call off our search when it got too dark. Not feeling like supper we battened down the hatches and praying that Shammy was safe as the jackals started howling ever closer. Just after nine o’ clock, Shammy appeared hungry and scared at the window, not knowing that his two brothers were dead. Thank goodness he is safe, and now we live in fear as to who is next, not even my Italian Greyhound dogs are safe from this pack of Jack Russels. Patch is over 90 years old in human terms and as pack instinct goes they love taking out the weakest or the sick first.

Our animals are now locked up inside, prisoners in their own home. Lynda and a neighbour's daughter has been bitten, now two cats have been torn apart by these dogs. Who is next?

Ugly Cat

One of our cat, Little Boy, I call Ugly because well he doesn’t look cuddly and pretty like cats should. Anyway here is Ugly lying on the window sill box enjoying the afternoon sun, I tried to sneak up on him to take a photograph but he must have heard me and looked up. You can see clearly why I call him Ugly, with his lazy eye and funny jaw that permanently shows off his canines. There, there, you go back to sleep, and enough with that mournful cry of yours.

Fleabags

Coming home to animals can be a trial especially when some of them are flea ridden cats. Oh that is the lover dogs in me talking. Here are Lovely, Kitty and Little Boy enjoying their supper while keeping a wary eye out for the dogs. Not to worry, my Whippet Skye won't be doing much chasing of flea infested felines as he is limping and I can't find the reason why. He must have sprained himself with all his running and jumping after the fleabags.

This post is bringing back memories of my good friend Robbie. He used to pipe "May the fleas of a thousand camels infest your armpits." Now I am getting itchy in places just thinking about it.