Life at No.22, Musings

The Fiesty Feline

Suzanne

Many moons ago, she roamed Rotorua, and I named her Holly.

Once domesticated, she and I happily coexisted in our two-bedroom, cosy home. This stage of my life marked the start of adulthood; adopting a cat and paying a mortgage was a big responsibility.

Our first bonding session

I was getting bored with one-way conversations with myself, and it was time to bring another living being into my life and home, so I decided on a cat. Less complicated. Choosing a fine day, I cycled down to the local SPCA animal shelter to choose my potential new housemate. On arrival, I immediately wished I hadn’t, as these places are so heart-wrenching that I feel like stuffing all the kittens into a box on my cycle and pedalling home.

Then common sense prevailed, and I managed to compose myself and tell the person in charge what I wanted. The choice was tough, as numerous kittens vied for my attention, but one didn’t want it.

You guessed it; I picked up the one trying to escape my keen attention. Got you, I whispered; no rhythmic purring, just a hiss. I said to the woman This is the one I will adopt.

She reminded me of myself: a feisty character whose attitude ratcheted up when her personal space and freedom were threatened. She howled all the way home and eventually fell asleep on my lap after I fed her.

A few years passed, and we continued to live quietly together. Holly was never far from my side at home, mostly outside in the garden, which I kept extending until the lawn was no longer the dominant feature.

Introducing the Squire

I didn’t have a photo of the Squire and Holly – here’s one of him and Possum, a Cotswolds cat, very much like Holly in looks.

You’d think I had invited the local dog fraternity into our home. What a performance by Holly. One might say it was a clip from a horror movie, waking up to a howling cat on your chest, her steely eyes on you.

The Squire stayed firm in his resolve that he was welcome to visit us, and his presence was as welcome as Holly’s. With patience and a truckload of bribes, Holly eventually realised he was a good bloke to know as he wove his gentle ways past her hardened heart to the mushy part inside. She caved just like her human mother.

Eventually, his lap was preferred to mine.

The Orchard Years

From the house looking east towards the beginning of the Olive Grove

A few years later, pre-Blue the Dog days, we happily lived on 14 acres while establishing olive, citrus, and passionfruit. We had to let the local pests know we had a fiesty cat during the first few weeks. Without delay, the Squire introduced Holly to the shed and an enormous rat, then told her to do her bit for the family and eradicate the pest. She looked up at him as he spoke and, with some translation, replied, “Are you kidding me, mate?” then quickly turned and slinked out of the shed.

From that day on, it was clear she had retired from hunting, and her favourite spot was in front of the fireplace or plopped in a patch of sunshine.

Then there were Six of Us.

We went on to adopt a dog we named Blue and two kittens, Gracie and Stretch. Holly, unfortunately, never quite mellowed enough to accept the family additions. From then on, harmony was hit and miss; the youngest members soon learnt that seniority and a lack of tolerance outweighed cuteness. They kept their distance, especially near the fireplace. If a senior member got bored, all hell would break loose in an otherwise quiet household.

Blue and an olive tree near the propagation shed.

Those four united only to search us out amongst the olive trees. What a sight that was when we heard the meowing and saw them heading our way. Even the temporary heifers didn’t deter them. Our laughter only made them more determined to get us back to the house, with lots of rubbing up against our gumboots.

How could we be so selfish to put our enjoyment of viewing the olive trees in the glow of the late afternoon sun?

After a bit, we all returned to the house where dinner was served, then retreated to our respective places to eat in peace. At that point, our family of two humans and four animals were at our happiest, bellies nearly full, a good day’s work done, and relaxation taking over in the house we called home.

Holly lived to old age, never leaving the orchard or her favourite sunny possie.

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Published by Suzanne

I'm a lover of creativity and movement, expressed through photography, words, travel and sports. . . . . . .

33 thoughts on “The Fiesty Feline”

      1. It was my first venture into the world yesterday since the fall- to arrange having the stitches removed 🤣🩵 but then I compensated by having lunch with friends, though I couldn’t eat much.

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    1. She did and she adapted from urban to rural life without too much trouble. The vet bills were huge as they all seem to get themselves in strive at one time or another. I don’t miss that.

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    1. Anabel, she was a great cat and gave us plenty of laughs over the years. From my experience they pretty much rule the household or at least try their darnest to do so.

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  4. Dogs or cats, they always rule the household 😄 but I wouldn’t be without them.
    I can’t even imagine having so much land, Suzanne but it looked beautiful, and I love the photo of the cow with the little bird on the fence.

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    1. Thanks, Cathy, and yes, they’re persistent in their domination of the household. It was hard work, though we absolutely loved growing the olive trees and enjoyed the oil we produced.

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    1. Thanks, Jude, and you’re right, as each of our pets has always had distinctive characteristics. Our cat, Stretch, was named after a young niece who tried to pick him up with his feet firmly planted on the floor as she kept pulling him up with his face, eventually meeting hers.

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    1. Thanks, Sarah. She was a character, and I will never forget the day Les offered her a slice of lime as she was persistent for a taste of our fish dinner. The screwed-up expression on her face was classic; we nearly fell off our chairs laughing. Funnily enough, from that moment on, fish aroma never had her meowing at our feet.

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  11. Absolutely, our two are getting on a bit now, which does make things more expensive. In fact Hugo our Labrador isn’t that old ( 9) but is having trouble with stiff legs and joints. A Labrador thing. Our cat Slinky definitely rules the roost!

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      1. Yes. Her full name is Slinky Malinki. I didn’t change her name when I got her, didn’t have a clue who she was named after, but when I found out I bought her a storybook. So cute. Thanks Suzanne. 😊

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