Punky & Me

My Dear Fellows & Dear Princess,

My Easter break has started a bit early on account of I had to stay home today. Theoretically, the broadband guys were coming around to sort us out with a fibre connection.

In actuality, I discovered they have rescheduled us (again). They now plan to fix us up at the end of May.

WHICH IS RUBBISH.

But I wasn't too upset. It's lovely spending a day with the little guys and - 

Oh. That'll be Jasper effing off to bed all day.

So I was left with Punky. Who is Er Indoors's little guy really. You know how pussycats decide on who their person is? I most definitely belong to Jasper, but Punky is a mummy's boy.

That is not to say he does not like me. He knows that I am the Food Man, and wakes me every morning at 6am for his jellymeat. Except on those mornings when he wakes me at 5am.

Lacking Er Indoors, he was very attentive to me all day, and today's pictures are of him rolling around, smiling and being generally adorable. 

He arrived in our lives in 2011. Our beloved big black pussycat Figgy had just died and to fill the cat-shaped void in our lives we decided to adopt a kitty who needed us, but this time determined we would get a youngster. 

Up until this point, you see, we had adopted mainly older cats, because no-one usually wants them. We felt good about it, but had got through 4 pusscats in 5 years and decided we needed a kitty who would stick around a bit longer. It was just too much heartache to say goodbye to a kitty every 2 years or so.

We found a two year old cat named "Punker" on the internet. He belonged to an Australian chap and his Scottish girlfriend who were bound for Melbourne and didn't want to put Punky through the 6 weeks of quarantine that Australia demands.

They explained all this to us when we went to visit them. They were a goth couple who lived in a very small flat that was completely purple inside. Depeche Mode posters covered the walls. Purple Donna (as she called herself) had purple highlights in her hair, while Aussie Goth had a Dracula hairstyle with a jet-black widow's peak and sideburns that came to a point right above his upper lip.

Those sideburns. The two opposite points nearly-but-not-quite met under his nose. Er Indoors said she felt an urge to get a sharpie and fill in the gap.

We mock, but actually they were a lovely couple and clearly loved animals. They had Punky and three elderly lady cats who wanted nothing to do with him and hissed at him all the time. Homes had been arranged for them already, only Punky was still needing new parents.

"He's around here somewhere," they told us. But there was no sign of him.

They explained he was a very nervous cat. Before he lived with them he had lived on a farm with lots of big dogs who chased him around and used him for sport. It was a sad tale. 

It was at this point we saw a nose and whiskers peering fearfully out of a kitchen cupboard at us. But as soon as we turned to look, he was gone again.

Having passed the audition, Punky's parents told us we could have him later that week. Those poor people. They went to another room (he wouldn't come out to us) to play with him one last time. Then we could hear struggles as they put him in a cat-carrier and handed him over to us, tears streaming down their faces and ruining their mascara.

Punky "eeped" in panic. He's never really been able to meow properly.

We took Punky to a waiting taxi and drove off, Aussie Goth gave chase, like a 1940's heroine waving goodbye to a wartime soldier leaving on a train.

"We love yoooooo Punky....!!" he cried.

"Drive," Er Indoors told the taxi driver. 

We opened Punky's bag at our flat in Leith and he immediately tried all the kitchen cupboards, but was clearly put out that they all had things in them. He even tried the washing machine. I put food out for him but he had VANISHED. GONE. DISAPPEARED. 

DAVID BLAIN-ED HIS WAY OUT OF THE ROOM. 

And we didn't see him again for 2 whole weeks. 

We weren't panicked though. We knew he was there. The food disappeared overnight and poos appeared in the litter box. We were somewhat disappointed to find we had adopted The Invisible Cat, but figured he would come around eventually.

It took a very long while. He appeared to Er Indoors first. She said she was doing her hair one morning and he just rocked up, calm as you please, and rolled around at her feet.

With me, it took a little longer. As it happened I was quite unwell at the time, I'd developed a bollock infection. No really. It is always the same with me, when I get sick there are typically comedy implications. 

So I was up at 3am, unable to sleep because of the pain, and the little chap decided I was all right too. He rolled around for me and let me stroke him. Maybe he was trying to take my mind off my nads, I don't know. But either way, we have been friends ever since.

He will always ALWAYS be a nervous little chap. When people visit, he hides and unless he decides you sound all right you may never meet him. He has hidey-holes all around our flat and he loves the quiet. 

He's got some funny habits too. One of which is that he insists on being fed in a different spot every day. He escorts me to the kitchen while I get out his food-bowl but as soon as I crack open a tin, he DISAPPEARS.

This happens every single day. I have to go and find him. Sometimes he is on top of a chest of drawers. Or a window-sill. Or sitting on the couch. That is his "food place" and he will eat there and NOWHERE ELSE.

He doesn't meow, but he does cheep and purr and chirrup. He likes to be talked to, and occasionally stroked, but not over-stroked. If you stroke him for too long, he will push your hand away with his paw. "Enough. No means no," he will remind you.

His tail is always up, and when he is very excited it quivers and shakes. And when he is especially excited he careens around the place chirping and breeping, attacking the rug and bouncing off beds.

He has always loved to play. When he first arrived, he tried to play with Tiggy, our 22-year-old grumpy old lady cat. She wanted nothing to do with him, naturally and growled and spat at him.

Back then, we decided he needed a playpal. Which is where Jasper comes into our story. I will save that for tomorrow though.

Jasper, coincidentally, has just woken up from his big nap. My alone-time with Punky has come to an end. But it was nice to spend time with him, I've had a really lovely time giving him his favourite brush and playing with him. 

I may not be his person. But he is my kitty and I love him.

S.

p.s. When we emigrated to NZ, we emailed Purple Donna to tell her that Punky had made it through the 2 weeks of NZ quarantine just fine. She replied that she would love to pop in and see him someday. I hope she does.