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Nice weather for cats

Sunday, 23 July 2006

Sébastian turns out to be living up to his middle-class name. He’s always been rather sniffy about water from the tap, only accepting it with some cow’s milk in it. I don’t like giving cats cow’s milk, especially in hot weather when it quickly becomes live yoghurt. Alternatively, he would wander into the garden and lick rainwater off plants – back when we had rainwater. On Thursday, home for forty minutes before heading off to meet the chap at the station, I was grabbing myself a long drink of barley squash made with cool water from the filter jug in the fridge. Out of a vague curiosity, I poured some of the water into Séba’s water bowl. He loves it. My cat insists on cool, filtered water.

This may be a reflection on his taste, or on the state of SWW’s water. I’m not sure which.

ETA: meanwhile, I have realised I have become the sort of regular at a cocktail bar who orders off-menu because I know all the other things they can make. So I wandered into Kino’s and ordered a Deep South without checking if it was on the menu.

Whaddya mean "Closed"?

Sunday, 28 May 2006

When Séba went to the vets a couple of weeks ago, it was suggested he could stand to lose a lb. Which I sort of suspected. It’s quite hard to explain diets to cats though. I’ve made sure he only has the amount he is supposed to have everyday. This means he is hungry. And this means that he has resumed the early morning wake-up calls. Having your nose poked with a claw at 7.30am is fine in the week, but annoying at the weekends. That’s OK, I thought, I’ll get up early and cycle round to the supermarket before the traffic builds. I can use their cafe for my last beta-reading of Contractually Obligated Thing. Then I can do the corrections and also have time to alter a rather fab dress before going out tonight. Except I just checked and the supermarket doesn’t open till 10am. 10am! I want to do this now. What kind of stupid thing involves not opening till 10am. I could go round to St David’s station but I’m not sure that will work as a revision environment because the coffee is horrible and the cafe echoes with bingley-beep announcements. Boston Tea Party doesn’t open till 10am and the Caf&eacte; on Cowick St – where I was working yesterday – is closed on Sundays. If I didn’t have the dress to alter, I’d be tempted to get on a train and go to the buffet bar at Yeovil Junction because that was a great spot.

I like working in cafes. The distractions are removed. I can’t sneakily start reading OG. Or argue with people on mailing lists. Or decide to do complicated house chores. There’s just the printed off copy, a red pen and a cup of coffee.

I said RATE my kitten.

Monday, 27 March 2006

Someone once misheard me when I talked about this site:
Sébastian content
Click on the photo to rate Sébastian Schrödinger. I suggest a 10.

(Older readers may wish to also Rate Moosifer Jones)

Happy (Belated) Naming Day

Saturday, 21 January 2006

Yesterday was Saint Sebastian’s day which is also, in the absence of an actual known birthday, Sébastian Schrödinger‘s Naming day.

He was admitted to the Little Valley RSPCA shelter last year with a broken pelvis and pubis, a damaged tooth and other signs that he had been run over by a vehicle. He wore a red velvet collar but no one came to collect him. The woman who admitted him, who was Spanish, named him after the saint (hence the é in his name). They estimated he was about four years old, so he is now about five.

Since he came home with me, he’s slowly settled. The vicious attacks are over, although he does still playflight. He still prefers to lounge about on the chairs but, in the last few weeks, he has started sitting briefly on my lap. He’s my big brute of a cat and I’m so happy that someone found him and the RSPCA took him in a year ago.

Cool for Cats

Monday, 11 July 2005

Cool for Cats Went to Faringdon at the weekend, for the festival. It included talks from Gwyneth Jones, Brian Aldiss, Stephen Briggs and Jasper Fforde.

At the Glenn Tilbrook gig on Saturday night, the audience included a cat. A very unimpressed cat.

I’ll sort out a fuller report later, but look! cat at gig!

Sébastian Schrödinger Halliday

Friday, 18 March 2005

Sébastian - close up

He’s still a bit nervous, on account of just having arrived, but he jumped on my bed and took over the foot of it within about ten minutes. I took most of the photos without the flash, but at his flickr page you can see one shot with the flash on and how green his eyes are.

It turns out the woman who logged in in at the RSPCA is Spanish, so he is not Sebastian but Sébastian. He was found a stray, having been run over, and is recovering from a fractured pelvis. Not that you’d tell from his curiosity about my bedroom. I’ve just left him for fifteen minutes, so he can investigate the room on his own.

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