The Adventures of my FurKid – part 5

The Adventures of my FurKid – part 5

This year, Pringles turned 11, and he’s still as playful and full of mischief as always.  He loves to climb into the shower once someone’s done in there, to drink the clean warm water that is left on the shower floor.  Why?  Nobody knows, as he has a perfectly good water bowl filled daily with fresh, clean water.  Sadly, he hasn’t learned how to wipe his little paws when he’s done, and loves to leave kitty paw prints all over the bathroom floor.  If we’re lucky, there’ll even be a wet tummy print and tail print too, if he’s decided to lie down in the shower while he’s drinking.


One afternoon, after mowing the lawn or doing some DIY work, hubby climbed into the shower to wash all the grime off, and Catty decided to climb in with him!  Catty was perfectly happy standing there in the corner of the shower with the water going, and didn’t seem phased by it at all, yet if he gets wet outside when it’s raining, he will come inside and meow at me to please dry him.  What’s up with that?


Well, it was just as well that he got used to going in the shower, as he got caught out in the garden in a huge thunderstorm one afternoon.  Catty is scared of thunder and we think he may have hidden in the drainage ditch at the bottom of our garden.  After the storm had passed, a very dirty cat came crawling in through the cat flap. He was filthy!  The poor boy was sopping wet and was coated with mud from under his front legs to the tip of his tail, and there were leaves and twigs stick in his fur that we battled to take out.  I didn’t think to quickly snap a photo of him, I was more concerned about getting him dry in case he got sick, and my guess is that he was hiding in the drainage ditch facing the same way that the water runs, with meant that the water was going over him in the opposite direction to the way his fur grows, which is why all the debris got caught.  Anyway, towel drying him did nothing to get all the mud off, and I was left with no other option than to put Catty in the shower and wash him!  We don’t have a bath, only a shower, and I wasn’t sure how difficult this was going to be, but thankfully Catty just stood there and allowed us to rinse him clean with warm water.  The poor little guy must have been so cold and scared, that he didn’t care what was happening.  Once I had towel dried him, he sat an licked himself ‘clean’ with this really dazed look on his face, almost as if to say, “What the hell just happened?”

The over-the-fence game of stealing the neighbour’s rags has turned into a game of hunting garden gloves.  After visiting the neighbour’s one afternoon, Catty came home with a pair of garden gloves, freshly stolen from the neighbour’s garden, while she was busy and had taken them off briefly to attend to something else.  He also loves taking my garden gloves from the shelf that they’re stored on and dropping them somewhere in the garden, usually separately, or he hides them on top of the water tank.  I don’t know what this fascination with garden gloves is, but it’s clearly a game for him.  Maybe he likes the fact that they get returned to the same place each time, and it’s a cat version of Hide-and-Seek?



Over the years, Pringles has battled with cystitis and the odd bladder infection.  Luckily, we’ve reached a point now where I’m able to spot the early symptoms of a cystitis flare-up and we can get him started on medication pretty quickly.  The only thing wrong with this is that the anti-inflammatory medication causes him to hallucinate and see things that aren’t there, although it is rather funny to sit and watch him when he’s “seeing pink elephants flying around the room”.

His most recent bout of cystitis happened in June, and our trip to the Vet ended up having a rather unfortunate and unexpected outcome.  The Vet came in and looked at Pringles before exclaiming, “Oh, my!  Look at your eye, you poor cat.”  This reaction from her was totally unexpected, as we were there about a case of cystitis and not about his eye.

Before I carry on with this story, I need to explain that Pringles had been in a cat fight about a year and a half before we emigrated, and he’d been scratched across the eye during that fight.  At the time, our Vet had checked it out and he’d been medicated, etc, but damage to the eye had been done and there was a little on-going inflammation, which caused his left eye to look more brown than the right eye, but he still had his sight.  I took him to a feline eye specialist for a second opinion and she confirmed that the sight in that eye was fine, although they did warn us that he may gradually start going blind as he got older.


Anyway, back to the story.  We’re at the Vet about his cystitis and she’s just remarked on his eye, so I tell her about the prior cat fight, Vet and specialist diagnosis (I even had a copy of the specialists report in his file), and told her that I know the darkened colour is from inflammation and if it gets bad there are drops that I have to put in his eye.  She explained that it wasn’t just inflammation, but that he had developed sudden onset glaucoma and that the eye was swollen, hard and putting pressure on his brain and probably causing him migraine-like headaches on a daily basis.  Sadly, cats don’t show when they’re in pain, and we would never have known.  I was given the option of operating to remove the eye, or medicating him twice a day with eye drops for the rest of his life.  diagnosis, eye op decision.  I couldn’t help it, I burst into tears in the Vet’s consultation room.  I was there to have my cat treated for cystitis, only to be told that he needs to have an eye removed!

I got the medication he needed for the cystitis, plus eye drops that needed to be put in his eye twice a day for a week, and took my kitty home.  I think I cried for 24 hours after that diagnosis.  Not because Pringles had to lose and eye, but because I felt like I was an awful “Mom” for not noticing that my cat had slowly gone blind in one eye.  The Vet did say that the blindness happened very gradually, which is why we never noticed anything, and why Pringles never walked into furniture, etc, or changed his behaviour, but I still felt bad.  We made the decision to have his blind eye removed, as it would mean he’d be pain-free for the rest of his life, instead of dealing with pain on a daily basis and having to have drops put in his eye every day for the rest of his life.  A week and a half later, he had surgery.


His left eye was removed, and Catty came home the same day.  He wasn’t happy about wearing the “cone of shame” and kept pulling it off.  The nurses at the Vet had recommended securing it on with a cat collar, but even that didn’t work, he just wriggled and pulled until he got it off, earning him the nickname of Houdini.  Then I had an idea.  I’d bought a cat harness with leash so that I could take him out into the garden when he had cystitis, without having to worry about him disappearing to hide, as we needed to monitor if and when he was peeing, and how much, and I secured the cone on with his body harness.  He was not a happy Catty.  Now he couldn’t get it off!  I did leave the cone off whenever I was around with him, but if I had a client and had to work, he had to have the harness and cone, and at night we used the collar with the cone as it was more comfortable for him to sleep in.  Poor cat.


After two weeks we went back to the Vet and his 16 stitches were removed where they’d sewn his eyelids shut.  There was still a lot of swelling, but this gradually subsided as the wound healed, and the eyebrow and fur slowly started to grow back where they’d had to shave his little face.


I now own a one-eyed ginger FurKid, and have gotten used to seeing a one-eyed cat.  There was no adjustment period after the operation (as he was used to not seeing out of that eye), and I don’t even think he knows his eye is gone, only that he doesn’t have headaches any more.  He was definitely less grumpy after the surgery, and even gives me the odd snuggle when I pick him up to cuddle him, which he’s never done before.



He’s back to his old tricks and still tries to hide away from me when it’s inside time.  We lock the cat flap at sunset, and most days he comes inside and puts himself to bed before the sun goes down, but there are odd days when he just doesn’t want to.  He’ll either hide under our house, somewhere in the garden, or be visiting the neighbours, in which case he’s passed over the fence and locked inside anyway.  A few months ago, my little rascal snuck into the neighbours house mid-afternoon for a visit (if the door isn’t open, he’ll let himself in through an open window).  He said “hello” to everyone, and then disappeared.  Sunset came and I thought he was outside somewhere, and the neighbours thought he was home with me, as they’d checked all the rooms in their house before closing the windows for the night, and didn’t see Catty anywhere.  Later that evening, he still hadn’t come in.  I searched the garden by torchlight, called for him, and couldn’t find him anywhere … It turns out that the little rascal had known it was inside time, and had snuck it the neighbours computer room, curling himself up and hiding away so that no one would find him.  Needless to say, he was found and passed over the fence to sleep at home that night.  No sleepovers for naughty kitties!

As I’ve mentioned before, Pringles loves to drink out of the shower after someone has just finished showering.  He also loves drinking out of the bases of pot plant pots, dirty puddles, rainwater collection bins.  He seems to prefer these dirtier water options to the nice clean water we give him in his bowl every day.  Why?  I’ll never know.  His latest fad is drinking out of the bird bath!  Yes, my cat now thinks that he’s a bird, seeing as he’s not allowed to chase birds or go near them in the garden without being told “Uh uh” or “Leave the birds alone.”


“If the birds can, why can’t I?”



My Grandmother’s Legacy

What is a legacy? I’d always assumed that it had something to do with rich people, wealth and material possessions, but it was only recently, while chatting to my neighbour, that I realized that it can be a lot more meaningful than that!

“Often when you think about legacy, it’s something that is left behind after a person has passed. Legacy is more about sharing what you have learned, not just what you have earned, and bequeathing values over valuables, as material wealth is only a small fraction of your legacy. A more holistic definition of legacy is when you are genuinely grounded in offering yourself and making a meaningful, lasting and energizing contribution to humanity by serving a cause greater than your own. The requirements of a legacy are that you embrace your uniqueness, passionately immersing your whole self into life so that your gift will be to all and that you take responsibility to ensure that it will have a life beyond that of you, its creator, outliving and outlasting your time on earth.” (source: Meridian Life Design)

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While this blog post may seem like a rambling collection of memories to some, I hope it evokes some fond memories for my Dad, siblings, cousins and extended family (and possibly even family friends, too).

I have two younger siblings, and for us, school holidays were always spent with our grandparents. This not only gave our parents a chance to spend some much needed time together, without three kids constantly hanging around and demanding attention, (they probably needed to regain their sanity, too!) but also gave us a chance to get to know our grandmother and cousins, as well as build many lasting, happy memories. (Our grandfather passed away when I was 12, so I only have a few memories of him.)

During the shorter school holidays, it would often just be us three siblings staying over at Gran’s house, maybe with the whole extended family getting together for a meal, for example, lunch on Easter Sunday or dinner on Christmas Eve. I remember one Easter, all of the cousins were sitting outside on a grey blanket on the front lawn, near the birdbath under the pink Tibouchina tree, eating a lunch of roasted turkey and various salads, while eagerly eyeing the bags of Easter eggs next to us. The adults were seated on the front verandah, and we weren’t allowed to touch our easter eggs until we’d finished our lunch!

Easter EggsThe traditional annual Easter Egg hunt had taken place earlier that morning, and our stash consisted of a mix of store bought marshmallow easter eggs, homemade moulded chocolates, and homemade easter eggs that had been made from dried eggshells dyed with food coloring, before being dried and stuffed. Some of these were left plain colours (pink, blue, green or yellow), while some were hand-painted with bee or ladybug designs, before being filled with Licorice Allsorts and topped off with a foil ‘cap’ before being hidden in the garden for us to find. These homemade “eggs” were always the favorites, and on the odd occasion there’d be one that was so well hidden that nobody could find it, or remember where it was hidden. We’d discover this egg many months, or even years later, still hidden in the garden, but only the shell and the foil remained. The ants always got there first and the sweets transported elsewhere, or else they had slowly disintegrated in the rain.

Longer school holidays often meant that cousins would come and stay for a few days or a week. On rare occasions, there were up to 7 grandkids all staying in Gran’s house at one time. How she managed with that many grandchildren all at once, we’ll never know. She must have been superwoman!

Most days, breakfast consisted of toast with homemade jam or marmalade, and either homemade yoghurt flavoured with an instant juice powder (Clifton brand), or if it was winter, hot mieliemeal porridge with butter, brown sugar and a splash of milk. Mmm, yummy! I really do miss proper mieliemeal porridge. Sometimes on the weekends we were treated to a full fried breakfast of bacon and eggs, maybe with fried bread.

ChickWe would help with simple daily chores and did these on a rotation basis, depending on how many of us were staying there. Going back to when I was really young, I remember looking for chicken eggs in a little blue and white corrugated hen house, or checking on baby chicks that were kept in a homemade incubator with a lamp. My siblings may not remember these, as Gran didn’t always have chickens, but I still remember the heat from that lamp and the smell that emanated from those baby chicks. Other tasks included preparing the next batch of homemade yoghurt so that it was ready to eat the next day, washing dishes, helping with vacuuming, mopping, sweeping, hanging laundry, or emptying the compost bucket or rubbish bin. These tasks were done before we headed out for a morning of fun and games, either playing in the large garden or riding our bicycles around the neighborhood for hours on end, just exploring where roads went and what we could find, even on chilly winter mornings.

Racing our bicycles down Morcom Road (a long, steep road in Pietermaritzburg) was always a hair-raising experience. We’d start near the top of the hill and freewheel down, often screeching with laughter, eyes streaming from the wind and our hands gripping the handlebars so tightly our knuckles would turn white. In winter, our fingers would be numb with cold! To this day, it amazes me that none of us ever fell off or got seriously injured, although in saying that, there were a few speed-wobbles and some very shaky moments, but somehow we always managed to stay on our bikes, with a good laugh afterwards.

After playing games or exploring for hours, we’d return ‘home’ for lunch or dinner, and would pair up again to wash and dry the dishes, taking turns to do this. Feeding the dogs and watering the garden would take place in the late afternoon, often with Gran armed with the hosepipe and us with watering cans, and we’d earn a small amount of “pocket money” from these chores to spend on sweets, boxes of jelly powder, or tubes of condensed milk when we went into “town” (the nearby mall or local supermarket).

Cho Cho


Gran’s large garden was divided into sections: the front was a flower garden and small lawn, the middle section had a large grassy area with a few fruit trees, the perfect spot for playing games or resting in the shade, and right at the back was the vegetable garden. We’d often pick fresh fruit and veggies straight from the garden for meals, and were introduced to a variety of vegetables, some of which my friends had never heard of or had ever eaten, like amadumbi (African potato), cho-cho (Chayote), lima beans, Swiss Chard (silverbeet, very similar to spinach), makowe mushrooms, oyster mushrooms, tamarillos, custard apples, quince, the list goes on.



We’d eat fruit salad for dessert most days, until we were sick of it and didn’t want to see another pawpaw ever again! At the time, I don’t think we realised how lucky we were to be eating so much fresh “organic”, homegrown produce every day!


In summer, we’d go hunting for makowe mushrooms, usually the day after a large thunderstorm. These mushrooms would literally pop up overnight and would get as big as side plates. They were delicious fried in butter and eaten on toast, but we had to be quick about looking for them, as we weren’t the only ones who liked to eat them! If you saw one out on the sidewalk or in the local park and waited for it to get a little bigger before picking it, sometimes you missed out and someone else picked it first!

Tube swimwearBack in the 1980’s there used to be a large round portapool in her back garden, with a step ladder that you had to use to climb into it. Gran had two of those old-fashioned kiddies swimming costumes with a tube sewn in around the middle, for kids who couldn’t swim properly yet. I’m very glad that those swimming costumes are no longer around, as they were horrid to get on and a health hazard if you happened to manage to tip yourself over or land head first in the water with your legs in the air! Unfortunately, the pool didn’t survive a bad hail storm and was removed, so on hot summer days we would walk across the road and ask to swim at a neighbors house, or spend time building sandcastles or digging holes in a sandpit under the cool, dark shade of two huge avocado trees. One of these avocado trees had the most divine avocados. They were very large with buttery soft flesh and were oh so tasty. How I miss those avos!

metal ice trayA special treat would be an iceblock of fresh-squeezed orange juice that had been frozen in one of those metal ice trays with the removable dividers. For some reason, we always ate these sticky, slushy ice blocks on saucers with a teaspoon, often under the shade of the plum tree, always being careful to check the grass before we sat down, just in case one of the chickens had left a ‘surprise’ in the spot we planned to sit on.

Another memory I have is when numerous azalea bushes in the garden were trimmed, and the cuttings were piled in the open patch of ground underneath these avocado trees. We would spend hours building forts and tunnels amongst the twigs, blissfully unaware that the resident mosquitos loved to hide in there, too! We’d emerge looking like we all had a mild case of chicken pox, only to be covered from head to foot in mosquito bites, yet somehow this didn’t deter us, and the next day we’d be back there again.

Frisco tinWe’d spend hours digging up and collecting peach pips that were buried in the garden, around the spot where the old peach tree used to be. These pips would stored in old Frisco coffee cans (the brown ones with dancing ladies on them) and would be used at dusk as ‘ammunition’ in a slingshot to chase away the local hadedahs that flew in to roost in the avocado trees. We’d chase the birds for two reasons; firstly, they make an unsightly mess both on and under the tree, and then there’s the usual rowdiness in the early hours of the morning when one bird will make a noise , either from falling off it’s perch or from being disturbed, and then suddenly the whole neighbourhood is rudely awoken by the birds’ cacophanus calls of “haa-haa-haa-de-dah”!Ibis

Days were spent playing outdoor games like Hide ‘n Seek, Catchers or Stingers (sometimes with overripe fruit that had fallen off the trees, instead of a ball), Cowboys & Indians, Cops ‘n Robbers, as well as many games that we made up ourselves. We’d play cricket in the street, ride our bicycles around the neighbourhood, climb trees (and fall out of them), and swim in the neighbour’s pool. Granny squareOn cold, rainy days we were taught how to bake biscuits, cakes and rusks, often using recipes that had been passed down through the generations. We learned how to make jam, pickles and preserves, or homemade fruit juices. This was when I first learned what pectin was, and how to test to see if your jam was ready by placing a teaspoonful on a saucer and leaving it to cool. If it thickened to the right consistency and set when it cooled, it was ready.   If we weren’t learning in the kitchen, we’d be learning a craft of some sort; making feather dusters from scraps of wool, which would then be sold at the local church fete, knitting or crocheting.

We’d spend hours playing card games and board games, with Rummy and Checkers being Gran’s favorites, and nine times out of ten, she’d beat you! In the evenings, we’d sit and knit or crochet while sitting in front of the TV. Often we’s knit rows of multicolored squares that would eventually be stitched together and made into blankets, or we’d crochet ‘granny squares’ for blankets and cushion covers, using up scraps of wool that had been stored in a very large, clear plastic bag. I remember I was 14-years old, sitting with Gran out on the back verandah, when she taught me how to embroider lazy daisy stitches. That was the day when my love of creating traditional hand-stitched embroidered items began.

Table Runner

I have so many more fond memories of things we did and things we learned, and these are only a few. Looking back over the years, I don’t think we ever realized at the time how lucky we were to spend our holidays with her, or how educational they turned out to be. IMG_1116-001Without spending holidays at Gran’s house, I doubt that we ever would have learned as many valuable life skills as we did.

These days, few people get to celebrate their 80th birthdays, never mind their 92nd! Sadly, we were forced to say ‘goodbye’ to this extraordinary woman on the 9th July 2017. Her time had come to leave this Earth, but she will be forever in our hearts, and will continue to live on through all the wonderful things that she has taught us.

The Adventures of my FurKid – part 4

The Adventures of my FurKid – part 4

We moved out of the townhouse in December 2015, into a house with a garden. Pringles was very skittish for the first few weeks in the new house, which was understandable, and all he wanted to do was get out into the garden so that he could hide underneath the house. We kept him locked inside for a week, just to be safe, we didn’t want him running away and we finally let him out for the first time a few days before Christmas.


The house has a rainwater tank (we aren’t connected to council water supply) and I was woken up early one morning, just before sunrise, during our first week in our ‘new’ house, with Pringles yowling “Mom, Mom!”.  It’s his ‘rescue me’ meow that sounds exactly like a small child calling for mom. I went outside armed with a torch, as it was still dark, and a tumbler of water to find Pringles sitting up on top of the water tank and the other cat sitting on the ground at the base. Pringles saw me and suddenly got all brave because he now had backup, he leaped off the water tank and chased the other cat over the grass, down the garden, and over the back fence onto the golf course, before he came sauntering back as if to say “Did you see, Mom? Did you see? I chased him!” I haven’t seen that cat in our garden again, but its so funny how Catty needs backup before he gets all brave.


That summer was particularly warm and the cicadas were out in full-force, singing their deafening song and flying around all over the place. I was getting tired of catching all the cicadas that flew inside the house and putting them back out the window, only to have them fly back in again. Pringles was busy sunning himself in the bay window one morning, when a cicada flew in. He had no idea what it was and as usual, just ignored it. I had something in mind, so I called him and and used the words we’d trained him with to indicate that there was food or a snack. Well, he pounced on the cicada, played with it for a little while and then ate it. The next cicada that flew in didn’t stand a chance! As soon as he heard the flapping wings, he dashed across the room, pounced and ate it. He obviously likes the taste of cicada.

One year later, he actively hunts them in the garden, listening for the noise that they make before creeping up on them and either pouncing, or jumping up to knock it off a branch if it’s sitting in a bush. We no longer refer to them as cicadas, they’re now called “Catty snacks”.  I don’t mind him eating a few of these insects, as there are thousands of them around in summer, and it’s not like he eats all that many in a day.


Not long after we moved into the house, Pringles decided that our garden wasn’t a big enough territory for him, and he took to roaming the neighbours gardens as well. He soon learned (by accident) that the neighbour on our right has a small dog. One morning, Pringles came leaping over the 6ft fence, as fast as he could go, with his tail all puffed up and eyes as big as saucers. The dog must have snuck up on him, even though they’ve told me that the dog is “cat-friendly”, and Pringles must have been caught unawares because usually he’ll stand up to a dog if he feels the dog is in ‘his’ territory.

Since then, he seems to only roam our garden and the neighbours garden on the left of us. Thankfully, the neighbours don’t mind my Catty going to visit and my “lion” can often be found lying in a sunny spot at the bottom of their garden, or ‘supervising’ the gardening and ‘overseeing’ other odd jobs.


Pringles loves attention and will often seek it out, especially if he hears voices out in the neighbour’s garden. There have been mornings when he’s been lying peacefully at my feet while I work, only to suddenly disappear out of the cat flap to go and see who’s in his extended territory (aka the neighbour’s garden). Often when I pop out out to run errands he’ll wait a few minutes before hopping over the low fence to go over for a cuddle, or to sit on the their windowsill and sun himself. He’s never done this with any of our other neighbours in the past, and we’ve never encouraged it, but he’s even followed a door-to-door salesman from our house to theirs, just like a dog.  He’s definitely adopted our neighbours as part of his “family”, and least I know where to look for him if I can’t find him at home.  I also know that there’s someone keeping an eye on him, especially if I’m out for the day, or if I’m busy with clients, and I don’t have to worry about him wandering off around the neighbourhood, as he tends to stay between these two gardens.

We do still lock him in at night, purely for my own peace-of-mind. We live on a busy road and I’d hate for him to be run over at night. It also stops other cats from coming into our house, and it protects the wild hedgehogs in our garden, and any other nocturnal creatures from being tormented at night.


Catty is very happy to finally have his own garden and is still very playful for his 10 years. We’d warned the neighbours that he is a “cat-burglar” (see part 2) and it was almost as if Pringles heard me. A few days later, he brought a rag in through the cat flap. I returned it next door and the following day, the rag was back. This backwards and forwards game with the cloth continued for a week, until it was knotted to the railing and my little rascal couldn’t pull it loose.


Winter arrived and we finally got to use our fireplace. This is the first time we’ve ever had a fireplace and Pringles had no idea what it was. It went from being something extremely scary (with him hiding under the bed), to it being tolerated from across the lounge, to becoming his best friend, and by the end of winter he couldn’t seem get close enough!  On days when it’s not cold enough to light a fire, he now goes and sits in front of it, waiting for us to light it, giving us disgusted looks when he realizes that that’s not going to happen.


We recently went away for a week and a few days after we returned from our trip to Gisborne and Rotorua, Catty woke me up unexpectedly. He’d waited until hubby had literally just left for work at 6am, before waking me up with this deep, guttural “rowr, rowr, rowr.”  Still half asleep, I wondered if the cat was meowing because he hadn’t been let out yet, and it was only when he made the deep-throated “rowr” noise again, that I realised it was an “I’ve brought you a present” rowr and not a “let me out” or “feed me” meow.

I turned the light on in the bedroom and there on the carpet was this large insect. At first I thought it was a huge spider and started to panic, but then I saw the feelers and realised what it was. For those of you who don’t know what a New Zealand Weta looks like, its sort of like a large cricket on steroids and about 6cm long (click on this link to read more about Weta). This was the first Weta I’ve seen up close and I just wanted to get it outside before the cat ate it, or it crawled into a cupboard, so I didn’t get a very good look at it. I’m not sure if it was a ground weta or a treeweta weta, I just grabbed a tissue, picked it up in and wanted to get it out of the window and into the garden as fast as possible, before I got a serious case of the heebie-jeebies!


Murphy’s Law, while I was carrying it from the passage into the lounge, to get it to a window the leads out to the garden, I dropped it! It was still fairly dark, so I fumbled around trying to find the right light switch for the room, hoping that I wouldn’t accidentally step on it in the process as I was barefoot, and once I got a light on, the weta had simply disappeared! Now, I knew that it was impossible for something as large as that weta to just simply vanish into thin air. I had dropped it mere seconds ago and it was in an open carpeted area. Where could it be? … After a few minutes of looking around, I glanced down at my leg, and there it was, clinging tightly onto the leg of my pyjama pants for dear life! Eeeek! And this thing just wouldn’t let go! Eventually I pulled quite firmly and the weta let go, and I was able to put it out onto the outside windowsill. The last I saw of it, it was happily crawling along the side of our house above the garden, fully intact and completely unharmed, as I’d manage to rescue it before Catty decided that he wanted the gift back.

I’ve learned over the years that when Catty brings me a gift, it’s usually caught and carried inside very gently and carefully, and is normally unharmed when he delivers it. If I’m going to rescue the ‘gift’, I have to move quickly, otherwise he changes his mind and either starts playing with it, which leads to his claws coming out, or he delivers a fatal nip that usually signifies that he’s going to eat it (and possibly leave a nice mess on the carpet).


Christmas Eve … he’s eager to open his presents!

Well, that’s all I have for now, but I’m sure there’ll be a part 5 coming up in a few years’ time, as Pringles is always up to no good and seems to love having these little “adventures”.

The Adventures of my FurKid – part 3

The Adventures of my FurKid – part 3

A few weeks after I’d posted Part 2, we were rudely awoken at 2am one morning, to the hair-raising sounds of a catfight taking place in our lounge. I thought this was rather odd, as we lock Pringles inside at night and I wondered if I’d forgotten to lock the flap. I slowly crept down the stairs, torch in hand, hair on my neck standing on end, yet ready to break up a cat fight.  I got downstairs and turned on the light, only to find my dear pussycat in a full on yowling match with his own reflection! The heavy blackout curtains in the lounge and bright streetlights were enough to create a perfectly clear reflection of himself in the window. Silly cat!

Using his scratching log as a pillow

After frustratingly trying to teach Pringles how to use the new cat flap (he’d used one in South Africa, so this wasn’t a completely new concept), the silly sausage still hadn’t figured out how to go outside. If I let him out through the front door and then closed the door, “locking” him out, he’d come in through the cat flap quite happily, but he just couldn’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that it worked both ways, and he wouldn’t go out the house via the cat flap. He’d sit there scratching at the window, waiting for someone (usually me) to either open a door or hold the cat flap open before leaping through. He had free reign of the townhouse’s small garden during the day but did get locked inside at night, not only for his own safety and my peace of mind.  I don’t want him being run over or getting into cat fights, and it’s also for the safety of the NZ noctural wildlife.  I don’t want Pringles hunting and bringing in innocent creatures during the night. He seemed to get used to being locked inside after a few weeks, and he began coming in on his own as soon as it started getting dark, curling up in his bed, quite happy to settle in for the night.


Sneaking into our bed, when he has a perfectly good cat bed of his own!

One chilly winter’s evening, we were sitting watching something on TV, and Pringles was curled up in his cat bed with his soft baby blanket draped over him.  There were soft snoring noises and grunts being emitted from the depths of his bed. Dear Catty must have been fast asleep when all of a sudden he shot out of the bed, levitating about a metre off the floor, he went higher than our coffee table.  He landed on all four paws and immediately levitated again before sitting on the floor next to his bed. He looked at the bed, looked at us and had this really confused look on his face, before acting all sheepish. He must have been having a nightmare when his bed suddenly decided to “eat” him. It really was funny and we couldn’t help but laugh at him. Unfortunately, it’s one of those had-to-be-there moments that I wish I could have captured on video. We still laugh about it, years later!


We went to South Africa for three weeks in May 2015, to attend a family wedding, visit friends, and do a bit of sightseeing. Upon our return, we collected Pringles from the cattery that we’d put him in and they warned us that they’d had a few sneezing cats the week before and that we must just watch him in case it’s cat flu (which is highly contagious). We got him home and he was fine that day and was very happy to be home, full of purrs and constantly wanting love and to be scratched or petted. There was the odd sneeze but nothing that I was worried about.

The next day he sneezed a lot.  I started to think something was wrong but it was a Saturday afternoon and the Vet had already closed for the day, so I had to wait until Monday morning before speaking to them. Pringles kept us up that entire night with a runny nose and loud sneezing fits. By Monday morning, he was so blocked up that he had to breathe through his mouth, and he kept waking us up every two hours (at night) with continual sneezing fits, coughing and a blocked nose. He even stopped eating and drinking. It was like having a sick baby in the house.

Early Monday morning, off to the Vet we went, only to be told that he did have the dreaded cat flu! There are three types of Cat Flu; one viral that doesn’t respond to antibiotics and two bacterial types that can be treated with antibiotics. As it turned out, he had the horrible viral kind, the one that is really bad and cats can die from it if not treated in time. The poor little guy was running a very high fever (40.8°C, normal for a cat is around 38°C) but thankfully the flu was limited to his nose and throat and hadn’t gone into his chest yet. We had managed to catch it early. The vet gave him painkillers and an antibiotic injection to prevent him from getting a secondary bacterial infection, and I paid my hefty vet bill before taking my poor kitty home and tucking him up into his bed. I felt helpless, there wasn’t much that I could do to help him, he just had to fight this off on his own.


One very sick kitty

I had to dose him up once a day with painkillers, as well as a precautionary antibiotic and he got half a L-Lysine tablet crushed and added to his food. Thankfully I keep an L-Lysine supplement in my cupboard for when I get a coldsore, so I had some already. The viral cat flu causes coldsore-like blisters on the soft palate in the mouth, inside the nasal cavaties and in the throat. It’s no wonder my poor kitty didn’t want to eat! It was so bad that I had to force-feed him food and water with a syringe for two days and he finally “asked” for breakfast after being on the meds for a few days, which was great. It meant that I was able to medicate him in his food, without me having to force-feed them to him.

Poor Catty sounded awful! I had to lock him inside as it was far too cold outside for me to let him out, there was a chilly winter wind blowing and I had to prevent him for developing a further infection, pneumonia or from infecting other neighbourhood cats. I had placed his bed next to the window, in the weak winter sun, to keep him warm and tucked him up in his bed under his baby blanket. Unfortunately, he had to get used to using his ’emergency’ litter box until he got better, he hates having to use an undignified litter box and prefers to go out in the garden.


Unfortunately, we just had to sit and wait it out. Poor Catty’s nose was so badly blocked, yet it kept running at the same time and breathing was really difficult for him. If he wasn’t trying to breathe through his mouth, which cats hate to do, then he was trying to breathe through his nose and was constantly sniffing, sneezing and coughing. The vet said it could take anything from three to fourteen days for it to clear. I felt so sorry for him, there wasn’t much that I could do to help alleviate his symptoms. I did try to “steam” him twice a day to try clear his sinuses and would run the hot water in the shower until the bathroom was all steamy (just like you do when a child has croup) and then I’d carry him into the bathroom and stand there holding him in the steam for a few minutes until it sounded like his breathing got a little easier. At night, I just put him in the bathroom with me when I had a bath or shower and he would simply sit there and breathe in the steam all by himself. It did seem to help a little and he got into a routine where he would follow us upstairs whenever one of us went to bath or shower.

A few days later, he still wasn’t eating properly and I had to force-feed him his meds as he refused to eat his breakfast and the painkillers and L-Lysine are mixed into his morning food portion. “It’s easy and very simple to force-feed him his meds in a syringe” the vet said. “Just mix a teaspoon of wet food with a teaspoon of water and add his meds. Put the 10ml mixture into a syringe and just trickle it into his mouth. It’s easy.”, he said. Hahaha, I wonder if he’s ever actually tried to force-feed an ex-feral adult cat with a syringe?

Selfie!  (with bald patch on his front leg from his anaesthetic two weeks ago)

Eventually, he started to come right but then we had another set-back and he wouldn’t eat or drink. After trying to get Pringles to eat by himself and him not being interested, I tried for ten minutes to feed him with a syringe and he wasn’t tolerating it! Catty was growling at me, squirming and scratching my arms, cat food was going everywhere and I was getting really frustrated. I had managed to feed him with a syringe the night before I’d taken him to the vet, when the cat flu had first flared up, but he must have felt really miserable at that stage because feeding him then was a breeze; he just lay there and lapped it up.  Eventually, I gave up and had my own breakfast. An hour later, I tried again. I had better luck the second time but he still wasn’t a happy Catty. Fifteen minutes later, his medication and food mix had been (frustratingly) administered, after which dear Catty decided that he was now hungry and went and sat by his food bowl, waiting for some more food.  Why???!!! *Sigh* Why wouldn’t he just eat his meds and then get his “fishy” afterwards without all the fuss? Sometimes it’s just like having a naughty toddler in the house!

He's not so good at Hide 'n Seek (4 May)

Playing Hide-‘n-Seek … he’s not so good at hiding

I hated force-feeding Pringles. I knew that I was trying to help him but in his eyes, I just seemed to be a big, bad meanie that was trying to shove unwanted stuff down his throat. His blocked nose still sounded really awful but it finally felt like his fever had broken, as he wasn’t feeling as hot as he had been. What really irritated me about this whole episode was how blasé the cattery was about it. Cat flu is serious and highly contagious, cats die from it. It worried me that the carrier or sick cat may still have been in there, hadn’t been quarantined and that other people’s cats may be being infected too. At least my Catty was out and I was doing the best I could to nurse him back to health. I just wished that there was more that I could do for him. It’s so hard to describe how awful he looked and sounded. He lost a total of 500g, not a lot to most people, but to a 6.5kg cat, it’s a lot! Just to give you an idea of what he sounded like, it was as bad as a human adult with a really bad case of the flu, without being able to blow his nose.

To make matters even more frustrating, I only noticed after the force-feeding episodes that the critical care food the vet had given me to mix with his medication was chicken & pork flavoured and my fussy cat doesn’t like eating anything that’s not fish flavoured.  I then had an idea and wondered if I mixed his meds with fish flavoured cat food if he’d happily eat it, saving both him and me the trauma of the force-feeding, and it worked! You’d think that after having had him for so many years that I’d know this and think to check food flavours first. Well, after three days of force-feeding, he happily ate his meds all by himself and all the (unnecessary) stress had been for nothing, all because his food wasn’t fish flavoured!

Chilling on the deck

Pringles was really ill with this cat flu, it took four months for him to fully recover from it and there definitely were times when it was touch-and-go and we thought we were going to lose him. Unfortunately, now that the virus is in his system, he has it for life and as soon as he gets a little stressed out, it flares up again and he starts sneezing. The virus remains dormant in the body in the same way that the coldsore (herpes simplex) virus does in humans. Giving him L-Lysine in his food when he starts sneezing does help to suppress the virus and so far, we haven’t had another full-on bout of cat flu. Hopefully we never have to go through that again!



Part 4 of The Adventures of my FurKid (which contains more funny stories, like in parts 1 & 2) is now available, click here.

Begging to be dried after he's been out in the rain

Asking to be dried after being caught outside in a sudden rain shower



Sixto Rodriguez (also known as Rodriguez or Jesus Rodriguez) is an American folk musician from Detroit, Michigan.  His career was initially short lived with two albums in the early ’70’s and two Australian concert tours.  His music never took off in the US, although he retained a loyal following in Australia.  Unknown to him, his work became very popular in South Africa, even though little was known about the musician at the time and it was mistakenly rumoured that he had committed suicide during a concert in the 1970’s.  Both of his albums were released on CD in 1991 and in 1998 his song “Sugar Man” was covered by Just Jinger, a South African rock band.

In 2012 we saw the documentary “Searching for Sugar Man” which was aired on South African television.  The documentary is about two South Africans (from Cape Town), who set out in the late 1990’s to discover what happened to Rodriguez and whether or not the rumour about his death was true.

These determined fans did manage to find him, still living in the same derelict house that he bought in the 1970’s after quitting his music career, and the documentary has led to a revival of his music career.

This month we got to see this legend in person.  It was quite something to see the 72-year old man shuffle out onto the stage (assisted by a crew member) dressed in a suit and top hat but once he picked up his guitar and began playing and singing, his age seemed to disappear!

He is still an astounding musician and such a humble man.  I say humble because whenever the crowd applauded and cheered for him at the end of a song, he’d turn around (with his back to the crowd), take off his top hat and point it towards one of his band members, almost like he was directing the applause at them instead of it being for him!

Watching him perform was both amazing and inspiring.  His body may have aged but his mind still seems to be as sharp as ever.  His fingers flew swiftly and nimbly over the guitar strings and his voice was clear and strong.  There were even times during the concert where he had the crowd laughing at his witty comebacks to (drunken) comments shouted at him between songs!

When the concert ended and he shuffled off stage (assisted once more), we thought that there was no way that they would make him come out for an encore.  But lo and behold, out he came and happily played two more songs for us.

It’s really hard to imagine someone doing a world tour in their 70’s!  Surely all the traveling must be exhausting.  He did two concerts in New Zealand:  Auckland on 13th Oct and Wellington on 15th Oct, before heading across to Australia to do 14 concerts between 17th Oct and 15th Nov (one concert every alternate night)!  He’s then heading over to the UK in May 2015.

What an amazing man!

If you haven’t yet seen the documentary, try and make a plan to see it.  Click on this link to watch the trailer:

When the Circus came to Town

When the Circus came to Town

In 2008 we got to go to Madame Zingara‘s Theatre of Dreams in Durban, South Africa.  A unique supper theater spectacular that is housed in one of the last remaining Mirror Tents in the world; a magnificent tent named “Victoria” that has a 25 metre velvet top, mirrored columns, velvet drapes and beveled booths; and has travelled around the globe for the last 80 years!  We went to see this show as we knew it would be an amazing experience (and it was, especially since the group of us that went all dressed up accordingly), so if you’re in South Africa and haven’t yet been to see Madame Zinagara, make a plan to get tickets when they’re in your city next!  (They’re currently in Johannesburg).

And then there’s Cirque du Soleil …

Cirque du Soleil - Totem

For years we’d been mesmerized by reruns of Cirque du Soleil shows broadcast on TV and always said that one day we would love to go and actually see a live show.  That day finally arrived and last night we got to watch Cirque du Soleil live in action.  Their production of Totem is still on in Auckland and runs from 22 August to 28 September, before they move across to Australia from October 2014 to July 2015 (showing in various cities).

According to Cirque du Soleil’s website TOTEM traces the fascinating journey of the human species from its original amphibian state to its ultimate desire to fly.  The characters evolve on a stage evoking a giant turtle, the symbol of origin for many ancient civilizations.  

Inspired by many founding myths, TOTEM illustrates, through a visual and acrobatic language, the evolutionary progress of species. 

Somewhere between science and legend TOTEM explores the ties that bind Man to other species, his dreams and his infinite potential.”

Words can’t really describe how amazing it was, but I’ll try as best as I can to give you an idea.

Upon arrival at Alexandra Park in Greenlane, Auckland, we parked our vehicle and made our way through the main entrance to see the enormous yellow and blue striped tents looming before us!

Apparently these tents are home to about 170 people who travel with the Totem production and once inside, you’re suddenly in a magical world; a world where people can somersault, leap, spin and fly, all while making it look so effortless and easy.  Tasks and tricks that seem impossible to us in our day-to-day world, suddenly have us completely captivated and our mind’s are transported and amazed by what the human body can actually achieve!

Humans were miraculously transformed into various animals, with a bright array of colorful costumes and skillfully applied make-up and I really do admire these performers who apply their own make-up during the shows, as they do a superb job!  Yes, each performer applies their own make-up by following step-by-step instructions given to them by the Make-up Designer who creates the looks for the show, but there is a make-up supervisor on staff who oversees them to make sure it’s all done right.

The show began with us all waiting in anticipation and watching this giant turtle-shaped mound in the centre of the stage.  Suddenly the cloth cover of the turtle’s “shell” was whisked away, revealing the carapace underneath – a jungle gym-like frame complete with parallel bars.  The shell represented the origins of life on earth and inside the frame colourfully dressed amphibians and fish came alive to playfully leap, jump and soar during a parallel bar sequence.

An Amerindian dancer was up next, with hoops that she tossed, rolled and jumped through while creating magical shapes using the hoops and her body, to evoke images of various animals, symbolising the endless circle of life.  She ended her act by creating a completely circular ball made entirely out the hoops she’d used during her performance!

There were so many great acts and amazing performances, that I could be here all day telling you about it:  monkeys, neanderthals and modern man all sauntering on stage to create an ‘accidental’ line representing our evolution; a Crystal Man that dangled and spiralled down from the ceiling; Crystal Ladies spinning and swapping squares of sparkling fabric on their hands and feet, in a high-speed co-ordination; an agile performer contorting his body on an hourglass-shaped frame; a Scientist in his ‘laboratory’, spinning sparkling balls in a giant glass beaker (representing atoms or planets?), while his colleagues beat out music on brightly coloured test tubes filled with mysterious plants and fluids; Men leaping, jumping and flying on Russian bars, weightlessly defying gravity!

But there were two acts that really stood out for us … 5 ladies on unicycles; and an Amerindian couple on roller-skates with their act symbolising a wedding ceremony.

The five ladies on unicycles represented the abundance of Fall (Autumn), as they juggled metal bowls while displaying amazing agility, balance, synchronisation and grace.  The bowls were tossed using one foot, while controlling the unicycle with the other!  The bowls were then caught on their own heads or tossed across (or backwards over their shoulders, depending on which way they were facing) onto the heads of the other unicyclists!

Once again, the stage lighting changed and the floor became a river; a beautiful Amerindian woman arrived in a canoe, followed shortly by a chief in a separate canoe.  Both were wearing white and on their feet were knee-length, laced up roller-skates.  What happened next was absolutely astounding … they both climbed up onto a 1.8 metre diameter, drum-shaped platform and holding onto each other, spun around in a tight circle, whirling and twirling at heart-stopping speeds!  One slight mistake and it all could have gone horribly wrong.  At one point, she was attached to him by a harness around his neck which went fitted across the base of her skull and head, nothing else was holding them together.  He spun them around in this small circle, while she “barrel-rolled” in a blur of tassels and wheels!

As I said before, words cannot come near to describing this magnificent show, so watch the official Totem trailer for a sneak peek of it really looked like … Cirque du Soleil – Totem.

If you ever get a chance to see Cirque du Soleil live, don’t even think about it, just buy those tickets and go!  It was an awesome night out and a truly amazing experience.  Definitely worth every dollar spent!

Note:  Some of the information above and all photos are from Cirque du Soleil’s website, as photographs are not allowed to be taken in the tent.


100-days challenge: Days 76 to 100

Day 76:  Grateful that we were able to find squash courts nearby.  I really enjoyed this morning’s game.

Day 77:  Happiness is … sending e-mails to family and friends back ‘home’.

Day 78:  Grateful for home-cooked comfort food.

Day 79:  Happiness is … the sound of a thunderstorm!

Day 80:  Grateful for the afternoon walk and chat with my neighbour.

Day 81:  Happiness is … an animated movie and popcorn.

Day 82:  Grateful for friendly shop assistants.

Day 83:  Happiness is … Sundowners and a bbq’d chicken with roast potatoes.

Day 84:  Happiness is … tea and home baked banana muffins.

Day 85:  Grateful for leftovers, yummy chicken mayo sandwiches for lunch.

Day 86:  Grateful for all the rain we had today.

Day 87:  Grateful for the quick car service and that I didn’t have to sit around for hours waiting.

Day 88:  Grateful for my sewing machine.

Day 89:  Grateful for my health!

Day 90:  Happiness is … time spent with my husband.

Day 91:  Grateful for coffee and a chat with a friend.

Day 92:  Grateful for homemade comfort food … hot beef stew on a cold, wintery evening.

Day 93:  Grateful for a beautiful day with blue skies and sunshine, even if it is still a little chilly (we had frost this morning!).

Day 94:  Grateful for warm blankets, hot water and comfort food.  These are things that we often take for granted, things that others less fortunate than us may not have in winter.

Day 95:  Happiness is … homemade pizza on a Friday night!

Day 96:  Happiness is … a walk on the beach.

Day 97:  Grateful for lunch on the deck (in the sunshine) with my husband.

Day 98:  Happiness is … a book, warm duvet and hot cup of coffee on a cold, rainy day.

Day 99:  Grateful for a warmer day today and happy to see the sun!

Day 100:  Grateful that I have a wonderful, loving husband who has supported and stood by me through many of life’s ups and downs in the past 11 years.  I’m grateful for the love and support (and numerous hugs) during the difficult times and am grateful that we are able to share and experience the good times together.  Today we celebrate our 3rd wedding anniversary …