No permanent address, no budget for hotels, needing somewhere quiet, warm and dry to lay your bags (and your head) while you catch up with mountains of neglected admin? Most importantly, desperate for feline company, but can’t think about adopting because you are constantly on the move, with no immediate plan to settle down anywhere?
The solution is as purrfect as it is simple. Welcome to the world of cat sitting!
One of the first things I did on selling the flat and growing my wings was to join a house and pet sitting website, which puts would-be ‘sitters’ in touch with ‘hosts’; that is, people who are going on holiday and don’t like the idea of putting their pets into kennels or catteries. While these undoubtedly have their place, and many are perfectly good, they are traumatic for some pets and cats, especially, would much prefer to be in their own territory. It can also be expensive, especially if you’re going away for a few weeks.
The answer, then, is sometimes to invite a ‘vetted’ individual to stay in your home, keep it warm and take care of your pets just as you would yourself. Sitters keep the animals safe, fed, loved and entertained, and follow their familiar routine. Some do this as a business, and it’s something I have considered, but often it’s thought of as an exchange: the sitter stays somewhere rent-free and sometimes, perhaps, thinks of it as a bit of a holiday, if the home is located somewhere desirable.
For myself, I just need somewhere to be, and time, without distraction, to get on with work – be it updating my website, designing new trips and courses, corresponding with clients, or writing this. One day, who knows, I might even find the time for what I really need to get on with: finishing the book.
If hosts leave a few vegetables or a bottle of wine in the fridge that’s very much appreciated. Some do; some don’t. As I’m learning, every sit is different. Each animal is unique, and I become absurdly attached to all of them. I’m also enjoying moving around the country and making myself at home in areas I’ve never thought of visiting, along with those I’ve always wanted to. Some places I’ve fallen in love with; others I wouldn’t live in if you paid me, though it’s my mission to make the most out of wherever I happen to be. Sometimes I end up within meeting distance of a far-flung friend, which is a bonus.
Invariably, without a car, I get to know my immediate surroundings – the nearest shop, footpath and railway station – and meet some local characters along the way. I could write a whole post about the man who plonked himself down next to me on the bus to Selby, as I went to meet Gill for a coffee in town. This gentleman, now 76 (as he proudly informed me, though he didn’t appear to have a grey hair on his head and didn’t seem the type to dye it) had never seen the sea. Never been as far as York. Or Leeds, Wakefield or Pontefract, the towns easily accessible by public transport. Had he ever had a car? I asked. He’d thought about it once, he said. He’d thought about visiting the coast, too, but he wasn’t really bothered. He knew the route from Eggborough to Selby though. Oh yes, every twist and turn, and he pointed out the landmarks to me as we passed: the car, upside down in a field, that had been there for three weeks. A young lad going too fast, he surmised. And if I looked to my right, down that snicket, I’d see the most enormous blow-up snowman. On the outskirts of Selby was the same chip shop he used to frequent every Friday night as a lad, before walking the four miles home. Now, he rides this bus every day. I didn’t ask why.
Despite these homes becoming my temporary office, I’ve ended up in some beautiful spots, too; I have, of course, explored woods, beaches, rivers and canals when they were available on the doorstep. The true highlights, though, have been the animals themselves. I’m exclusively cats at the moment; apart from their eternal need to sit on the keyboard, or the chair I’ve vacated for two seconds to make a cup of tea, they are much less demanding than dogs, and the smell of their fur – like freshly washed laundry, dried in the wind – makes the shortest, darkest winter days a whole lot brighter. Here’s to (well over) a year of cat sitting these diverse purrsonalities. I’ve loved every quirk; every gruesome, half-eaten ‘gift’, every early morning miaow and, most of all, that moment when they’ve jumped onto my lap for the first time and settled down, as if to say: I accept you. You’re okay, I suppose. You’ll do.
Pouss-Pouss, Atherton, Queensland. This gorgeous, elderly boy took a long time to win over, but he quickly stole my heart. He had a special miaow first thing in the morning that sounded just like Hello!
I quite enjoyed being in Atherton, too. Although not the most exciting of places without transport, there were all manner of exciting foodstuffs growing in the garden. Along with some inedible plants (see a previous post, Recreational Gardening!)
Bob & Mo… I’ve been twice to these delectable black boys and they are so full of character I can’t imagine a life without them in it somewhere. I also really enjoy spending time in their area (near Arnside) with its quiet woodland and estuary walks.
Bob, especially, likes to sit on the laptop and prevent me from doing any work but he’s rarely available when I would like the company. Its as if he knows he’s a ‘posh’ cat.
Quirky little Penny, a ‘diva’ as her Mum describes her, is a shy yet bossy little cat. She needs medication twice a day but is so addicted to Lick-e-Lix cat treats that she gobbles it up, no trouble at all.
Her home is in Penrith, a surprise hidden gem that I really took to during my short stay there. It’s definitely a place on my return-to list.
Aww, Bubbles…I stopped scrolling on seeing her profile pic; it was definitely a swipe to the right!
She took a little while to warm up to me but after my second visit, this November, she climbed aboard and began dribbling with pleasure every time I sat, or lay, down.
I miss this lovely lady.
If I had to pick just one cat who tugged at my heartstrings the most…well, how difficult that would be, but perhaps it would be between Pouss-Pouss and Cara. Sixteen years old, a dainty princess with the most adorable, pointy-chinned face, she was one of the most affectionate (yet easy-going) cats I’ve ever known.
‘She’s the best cat we’ve ever had,’ said her loving owners, who were only away a week. Just long enough for me to fall in love with her, and to reacquaint myself with Knaresborough, an old haunt from my teenage years.
Here I am now in Cambridge, for the whole of the festive season, with these two pretty, young sisters, Yoshi and Ankha. They aren’t lap cats, but I’m convinced they’re happy I’m around, as they surely miss their teenage human brother.
They’re still quite playful; it’s a wonder the Christmas tree is still standing. This is them asking for Dreamies – yes, I know. It took them precisely three days to get me trained.
After this I’m pretty busy until the summer, when there may be a DOG (shhhh! Don’t tell the cats). Until January, though, I’ll be sniffing that laundry – and dispensing treats, like every good Granny at Christmas.