Monthly Archives: July 2016


Cats eating 1

‘Easy like Sunday morning’ is the motto for today. After my rigid enforcement of healthy eating for 36 hours, all three aged digestive systems are at peace. Or they were until I typed those words, we’ll see what happens!

I discussed with Best Auntie Jen the difficulties of feeding one cat a different diet from the other two, but actually it’s worked out OK so far. This is no doubt due to my status as a retired human and the only one in the house. Three mealtimes a day – which do not last long – are relatively easily policed, especially as Felix is already in the habit of eating in another room. And when I go out the timing of meals can be tweaked.

So now Mystic is on Hi-Life chicken, 85 grams per meal and the others are on several things, basically at the moment Whiskas 7+ (they decided they like the gravy one but NOT the jelly) with admixtures of various things they’ve sort of liked but I probably won’t buy again, usually about 100 grams per meal. I’ve got a delivery coming tomorrow which includes a special food for cats with sensitive tums, so we’ll see if Mystic likes that.

Speaking of best Aunties, I still don’t know how to break it to them that Best Auntie Jan is busy for now looking after her new puppy. They are so easily offended.

Cats eating 2


Welcome to #RRBC SPOTLIGHT AUTHOR Yvette Calleiro

Jan Hawke INKorporated

Today I’m delighted to bring you the final post of the week for Yvette Calleiro. Yvette’s been having a wonderful time on her Rave Reviews Book Club SPOTLIGHT AUTHOR tour, promoting the first book, The One Discovered in her YA fantasy series, The Chronicles of the Diadsodz

TheOneDiscovered - Cover Design 10-1

Why are Diasodz special?

by Yvette Calleiro

In my series, Chronicles of the Diasodz, I created a new being that lives among us and serves to heal and protect humans.  If you haven’t read my books, you may be wondering, what makes them so special?  Here are some fun little facts for you:

Diasodz can have two mothers.  Diasodz women in the Altorus class need to be able to fight at any given time.  If a battle were to arise and a Diasodz was pregnant, her embryo could be transferred to that of a Curatus woman to be carried safely to term.  This allowed the…

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Mystic waiting for Mum

A rather sleepless night last night.

Just before bed-time Mystic had a really, really nasty upset digestive system event (am working on ways to omit the p-word) not once, but three times in succession.

Once all the scrubbing was done, we retired to our several beds, and I don’t know how the mogs slept.

I, however, fretted about rushing him to the vet this morning, finding there was something terminal wrong or having to leave him in for treatment…well, you know. I got some sleep in the end but was up early – to find Mystic waiting for our usual morning cuddle and kiss, and chirpy as you like.

I’ve put him on lighter and less food than the other two, and since waking from his post-breakfast snooze he’s been catting my footsteps asking when is second breakfast then, he’s hungry!

Mysterious Mystic! You can never get to the bottom of him (pun intended.)


Telly’s Friday Night Fantasy


Siân Glírdan

Didya miss me? 😀 Well I’m back and fizzing here, because the crazy dames are all tuckered out and about to sleep the sleep of the knackered, but very happy. The reason is very simple – they’ve cracked the kinks in the book trailer and got it reloaded onto YouTube, so they decided to let me do the announcements all over while they go and eat some chocolate and whatever other little rituals they need to do before hitting the hay…

So, without further ado, and even though there’s really not a lot about me in there at all, let me introduce you to –

A Freebooter’s Fantasy Almanac ~ the book trailer! 

That’s all from me this week – thank you very much for dropping in! 😉

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Scrap c 1973

A lifetime of cats

It began with Bingo, my Grandma’s big black and white cat named for Mr. Crosby, and Tiddles, my Nan’s tabby.

The first cat who came to live with us was a feral kitten we named Dusty, who was captured by my brave cousin Terry at the cost of several nasty lacerations, then tamed by my mother who became his favouritest person forever.  Dusty had a perfect map of Africa and India in grey fur on one of his white sides.

Another big tabby friend of mine was called Frisky, while the cat you see above was named Scrap as she was such a little scrappy thing when she came up to me at a bus-stop and after surveying the queue announced that I was to take her home at once. She was with me for 19 years.  She was an indoor cat because of her deafness, but was good at sign language.

After her came Scruffy, also named for the state he was in while he was squatting in our back garden prior to Scrap’s death. He was quite an old black and white, and we only had him for four years but he was very happy to be a house-cat instead of a stray.

His successor was Charlie, who came to us from Battersea.

He was a more than a bit bitey and scratchy, but this turned out to be due to an overactive thyroid. Her he is guarding the threshold, one of his favourite things to do.  He was succeeded by Oscar, who died far too young at 8 from a sudden nasty cancer.  A real sweetie, everyone loved him.

After losing Oscar I went in for Gericatrics, starting with Colin and Jerry;

Colin was only with me four 4 months but had a very happy summer; Jerry was nearly 19 when he died after a 16-month stay.  Which brings us to Felix, Fluff and Mystic;

Who seem unable to appear the right way up!

Lots of lovely cats belonging to friends have been my friends too, but I’ll close for now with my dear Grandcats, Ella and Billie. Billie left us early this year, just one day after Jerry.

 Note to self – must get pictures scanned of previous cats!



I suppose that it’s always the case, when adopting elderly animals, that one has a secret wild hope that under one’s care they will become younger and stronger again, and possibly live forever.

I know I’ve kept saying to everyone, ‘Of course I may not have them long, they’re so old and rather frail, every day is a bonus,’ and all those things you do say.

Also, it’s quite true that things are better than they were during the rather frantic settling-in period when nobody knew the difference between a cat-bed and a litter-tray, and no-one was allowed out.

But within that truth there is a harder one to learn to live with, still hard even though I’ve been through it many times; they are very old, and things like digestive upsets are going to be a large part of life from now on. That’s what I’ve signed up for. My head tells me that and I believe it. But every time any one of them is ill, it’s just as distressing as if my head had never said anything to me at all.

What makes it all worthwhile is the cuddles and seeing them sleep so very comfortably in what have now become ‘their’ places. Mystic jumping on the bed in the morning to stand up beside me and kiss my hair; Fluff in the morning washing my fingers; Felix beginning to settle down peacefully on my lap without such a long period of sitting at attention and checking it’s OK. Simple pleasures, great rewards.



cat vacuum cleaner

it’s only about 43 days since the mogs came to live here, and now they are having to deal for the second time with Vacuum-Cleaner Auntie.

The first time their downstairs space was invaded by the roaring monster was only 4 days after they came, and no-one was allowed out. They responded by pooing copiously in the least convenient places they could find, especially those that had just been vacuumed.

This time they are so laid back it’s as if they haven’t noticed she’s there at all. I never cease to be impressed by the adaptability of cats.

Not to mention their total impeviousness to the fact that it’s them causing most of the mess that needs vacuuming – hair, tracked litter, and the rest.

Deeply chilled creatures.

cat vaccum 2


sleeping cat 1

Today is a very quiet cat day. They are basically so calm and settled that there’s very little to write (writing that should change things immediately!)

Each morning Mystic is waiting for me to get up and let him into my room, and Fluff sways in after him, although he feels he has to sit and watch while Mystic gets cuddled. Actually it’s me that gets cuddled, as Mystic is even more affectionate than usual during this early morning ceremony, probably because he really, really wants breakfast. He stands up beside me on the bed and puts his arms around my neck and purrs and kisses me.

I wonder if Felix will ever be allowed to join in? Probably not if Mystic remains so dominant.

They’ve evolved a routine, though, and I’m allowed to fit in my writing, gardening, swimming and shopping around the important things – meals, changing litter trays and cuddling. My mission in life is fulfilled – what could be better?

Three happy cats 2


cat fluffy 1

Fluff’s face is his fortune, in one sense – he’s so pretty that everyone says when they see him, ‘Oh, he’s so pretty.’

However, this tendency to appear like a perennial pretty kitten is not an unmitigated advantage. Long hair is, in many ways, a disaster for a cat.

He’s only produced one hairball since moving in with me, at least indoors. But they are a constant danger, which means a lot of brushing and combing which he really dislikes. I suspect that swallowed hair is one of the reasons for his unglamorous constipation and the discomfort that brings. (Yes, it’s still all about poo!)

His coat is growing back now after the undignified shave he had at the refuge, to clear away tangles, knots, clumps of hair and dirt (I’ll avoid the p-word for once.) Already he even has long-haired toes, very Hobbity. Soon I shall have to brush his tum as thoroughly as his back, sides, tail and ears; he won’t like it.

He loves his cuddles and his purr is world-class. He has a sort of bond with Mystic, certainly more than Felix has with either of them, but it’s a little edgy. He tends to shadow Mystic but at a discreet distance, with what comes across as a mixture of respect and apprehension.

Sweet as pie, though 🙂

Cat fluffy 2



Felix. Or as I seem to say at least once each day, ‘Poor old Felix.’

I suspect after sixteen years together, it’s too late to overcome the emotional gaps between Felix and the other two. Despite his name, he’s often sad or angry, and dissensions arise that seem to be ‘Felix’s fault’ but actually go a long way back and originate in the alliance between Mystic and Fluff. *Sigh*.

Fortunately he’s well and busy – he’s physically the fittest of them all, he loves to be out in the garden and since I’ve ensured that he gets to eat all of his own meals in a separate room, he’s bright and strong. He seems to know I at least am on his side, although he continues to feel he could do with more cuddles. At least once a day he’ll come into the room, eye whichever of the other cats is on my lap, and turn away with a resigned look. Only once or twice since they arrived have I been able to engineer a joint cuddle, by means of smuggling Fluff into my arms while Felix sleeps obliviously on my lap.

He has a solemn look, does Felix, and is always very busy. He has the garden to supervise and protect, and he obviously wonders how we all think we would get on if it wasn’t for him taking care of business. When he finally reaches my lap he starts off sitting bolt upright facing me, and staring meaningfully into my eyes, as if to say something deep – maybe, ‘Life’s a puzzle, isn’t it?’ or ‘What a state the world’s in, Ma.’

It’s nice to see him finally relax and curl neatly up for a snooze. I keep the others off so that he can get his just reward for all his hard work. Sweet boy.