No Hard Feelings Then? 

The Proper Care and Training of Cats

When our ancient three-legged cat died I swore there would be no more cats. Then Scary Tam called around and said they'd had another litter of kittens. "What are they like?" says I. "Totally gorgeous" says he. "I might take a look at them" says I. I phoned Zoe who agreed to accompany me on the viewing expedition. "I definitely want a female" says I. "I quite agree" says she.

So we landed at Scary Tam's and the kittens were rather nice. Zoe upended the three of them and pronounced them all males. She considered a career as a vet for a time.

"I'll take one anyway" says I. And so we landed home with Harry. He was always great fun. No fear of dogs at all and he used to take great running leps at them. Nowadays we have to dose him with catnip to get his violent urges going. Needless to say we got him castrated. My friend Vinny says that the average lifespan of an unneutered tom cat is two years.

But there was one huge problem. Harry had a thing about pissing on Bert, preferably when he was asleep. The duvets I had to dump! He got a name change for a while and was known as Pisher McGee. But he was still loads of fun and got away with it. "He'll grow out of it" says I. "He'd better, or I'll shoot him" says he.

Then one day that Bert happened to be up early and he went to the front door to have a piss. As we live in the country there was no one to see him but a few thrushes in the hornbeam hedge and Pisher McGee. Bert spotted the cat, adjusted his aim and sent a good morning strone all over Harry. And as God is my judge Harry never peed on Bert or anywhere in the house after it.

Pisher McGee 

The Haunted Bed

I will return to the shaggy dog story I was telling youse* yesterday. To refresh your memory you might like to take a look at the picture of Bert lying in bed surrounded by his menagerie. Most unhygienic but there you go. Is anyone old enough to remember a band called Three Dog Night? That was a Native American term for a very cold night. Since Danny died Bert has noticed that Rosie and Danny don’t like to sleep on the bed. Rosie happily sleeps under it but not on it. The cat won’t go near it nor will Paddy. Bert is convinced that the bed is haunted and the ghost of Danny keeps the others at bay.

*Ulster-Scots dialect

Wet Wet Wet

Mr Fish said the glorious weather wouldn’t last and sure enough today dawned grey and cloudy. It started to rain after lunch and it hasn’t stopped. Ark weather. But did rain stop play? Not on your Nelly!

First stop was Antrim to see Jazzer. She’s been feeling a bit down recently, the reason why I cannot divulge. We went to Junction One and indulged in some fantasy shopping for our youngest daughters. Oh I wish Erin would wear this… if only Hannah would wear that. We did some real shopping in a Health Food Shop that has the most amazing selection of old-fashioned sweets. Which is strange and contradictory but there you are. I bought jelly babies and green tea. We had an hour or so of that, lots of chat then off to the Lough Shore Café for more coffee before picking up Ben from school. While we were at the Lough I discovered that Jazzer’s pretty scared of swans. Those ones are so tame too – not like proper wild swans. She told me that Ben (5) once called her a wuss for being scared and she called him a wuss back. Moments later he called to her “Look Mum, I’m no wuss!” and she looked to see him following a swan around clutching its tail feathers.

After leaving Jazzer and Ben off I went to see Dad in Glenkeen. He was in much better form than yesterday and enjoyed a tub of ice cream. Staff told me that he’d seen his GP earlier and that his chest is clear and he is on an antibiotic for his foot. I was glad I’d went down as it was good to see him looking better than before.

From Randalstown to Tannaghmore to report back to Mum. She was in good form and looking forward to seeing Trish on Wednesday. Then back to Ballymena to purchase a new CD player and radio for the car, which is my birthday present from Bert. I went into Halfords and announced words to this effect. “I am a sensible woman in my middle years. Direct me to the best value for money in the shop”. Spent £75 (reduced from £149) on something by Sony. Nearly £13 for the leads! And £30 to fit it!! Which they might be able to do in five minutes – or an hour. Gimme that. Young Lothario can fit it. There’s more to him than baking buns. He used to drive the most expensive Vauxhall in the world. The bits and trimmings he had fitted on to it were worth more than the actual car. I’m not asking Bert to do it. The last time he fitted one of those to my car he removed the front driver side wheel to do it.

Last Holiday

This picture was taken on a camping trip to Murlough Bay. It was Danny's last holiday. All the dogs had a fabulous time and so did we. Danny died soon afterwards. Did Paddy become the leader of the pack? No way. Rosie muscled in and became the Alpha Bitcher. Padraig Og will have to wait his turn.

Murlough Bay 

Youth and Age

But as you can see from this picture Danny slept a lot in the last few months of his life. Paddy just couldn't wait to be the alpha male of the pack but what could he do? Danny might have been ancient but at least he had balls. A friend was quick to spot Paddy's lack of gonads and sympathised thus "Never mind fellow, that's one less thing to trouble you." I have wondered since if this chap, ironically called Mad Dog, was troubled himself by excess gonad activity.

Paddy & Danny 

Padraig Og

....and there he was. Not completely like Danny but could have been a relation. He was as thin as a rail and covered in blue paint. Danny and he sniffed each other a bit and appeared to get on. So we took him out for a walk and he was so good. Danny and he got on very well but it wasn't to last. Denise said "you must call him Paddy, after all it's St Patrick's Day." I agreed that Paddy was the name for him. It would have been rude not to. So a few rules were ignored (they didn't do a home visit) and we got to take him home that very day. Danny continued to look on him favourably. He settled in well until Danny tried to shag him and he didn't like that one bit. Over the next few months all went well but Paddy was never quite as friendly towards Danny as Danny was to Paddy.

Paddy 

Let Sleeping Berts Lie

Did I mention that Bert is very fond of his bed? This picture was taken this day (my birthday) a year ago. His companions are Harry the cat, Rosie the collie and Danny the champion of the world and all round best dog ever. Sadly he died earlier this year at the age of 16. He was quite a character. On the 17th of March a friend, her dog, myself and Danny went to the Mid-Antrim Animal Sanctuary to choose another dog. We'd looked after an elderly stray spaniel for six months and she'd died of cancer. There was a dog-shaped space in my life and Danny was getting so old. So as I said we found ourselves in Antrim looking at homeless dogs....

Last Year 

Thursday Night is Music Night

.... at Nelly's. That is when all the lads come round and hang about the garage making music. They started about a year ago. Most of them are near-beginners which is to say they were in their 30s and 40s when they got into it. Bert plays the whistle well, the clarinet less well. Ian plays guitar & mandolin, Glen and Ploppy play banjo. Then there is Joe. He is good - used to play the saxophone in a showband when he was a stripling, then dropped music for years. He got interested again when he heard about Bert's amateur night. Joe can play anything and he tutors any of them that want it.

Ramble Inn

Mum and Bert took me to lunch today. We went to the Ramble Inn, just a mile or two up the road from Mother and it was the first time she ever darkened its door! Bert reckons she thinks pubs are places that smell of porter and woodbines where the bar is propped up by gather-ups and n’eer-do-wells drinking the housekeeping money and spitting in the sawdust. She was able to tell us that when she first came to Tannaghmore that the Ramble was called Wilson’s Stores and sold everything from animal feed to Tilly lamps. She also said that there was a blacksmith just behind it. Can’t you imagine the good old boys taking the horse to be shod and biding their time at the bar with a bottle of porter and a woodbine?

After eating we went down to Randalstown to see Dad. He was not quite as good as he’d been on Tuesday but did seem pleased to see Bert. He seemed very aware when I told him that Anne and Tricia would be coming home soon. Nurse called me back and told me he’s having problems with his foot with a sore that won’t heal. Apparently the circulation to his feet is pretty piss-poor but they are going to have it tested properly. I’d also noticed his chest was wheezy and mentioned this to Nurse. She said he’d be seeing the doctor tomorrow. As we left he waved and smiled at us through the window which was nice. He was still waving as the car pulled away.

A memo for all that know and love him - he’ll be 85 next Thursday.

Birthday Girl

Yes folks - Nelly is well and truly into her middle age. To celebrate today's birthday I begin by posting a picture of Nelly around about the time she started out. I'd say that photograph was taken in 1954.

Looks like another great day. I'd best enjoy it before the ice-age begins.

Bambino Maria 

Global Waming

Two beautiful cloudless days in a row - is this it?

Hello Lithuania

Jack says hello to Roberta, Rasa and Aldona in Lithuania.

Jack