Week 11, Day 3 (Let's continue widen the scope, shall we?)

Baby news is all very well, when there's something to report. However when there's not much change, I get a bit tired of repeating myself, and I'm sure you get bored with it too. So I'm going to fill in the time by telling you some funny stories either as they happen, or by anecdote.

I mentioned Adder a few posts back, and as he's reaching the dimmest twilight of his years (in more ways than the obvious), I think it's time he got the spotlight for a bit.

When I moved in with Wayne in early '96, he was owned by three cats - Gingin, Boots and Adder. Boots and Ginners passed over the Rainbow Bridge some years ago now, but Adder is still here. Hanging on by his tippiest of toenails, actually. All of Wayne's cats were (to some extent) refugees. Boots and Adder were neighbourhood strays that discovered a soft touch and moved in on him, while Gingin was left behind when his sister moved out.

Adder is utterly black, hence his name. He used to live over the back fence and Wayne would hear his owner calling him for dinner, which is how he learned his name. The neighbours moved on, leaving the cat behind. When Adder moved in with Wayne he was already an adult, so as he's lived with Wayne for 16 years, we figure Adder has to be at least in his late teens, ie more than 17, possibly into his 20's.

Adder has never been the sharpest shaving in the pencil sharpener. In fact, as cats go, he's rather stupid. It took him many years to learn (post Karl!) that peeing inside the house and stealing were strict no-no's, and he was so slow to learn this that he's only recently been allowed to live inside due to his extreme old age. We still fight the battle of manners on a daily basis, just last night the idiot was caught up on the kitchen counter. Silly auld bugger!

However he is very good at some things, and one of those is completely loving Wayne. (He detests me in perfect balance to this, btw). When Wayne goes shooting, Adder still follows along like a dog, and does his best to drag the hares Wayne shoots off to a sanctuary of his own making. Despite being a large cat, hares tend to outweigh him rather a lot, so if he can't drag them far, he finds a hollow, then builds a nest over the remains with stubble so he can hide out while dining for days. When he finally returns home some days later, there will only be hide and bones left of the hair. Very efficient!

Let's scroll back the years to '97 when Adder was significantly sprightlier, and we still lived in town. As the Wobble was still a young dog intent on wandering, we had a very high set of gates across the driveway in a concerted effort to keep the sod at home. I set up my office in the spare bedroom opposite the kitchen. With me so far?

This day I was working away at the computer when I heard a telltale rustle in the kitchen behind me. I silently spun around in my chair, and saw Adder deeply digging into the nearly empty supermarket bag that was hanging from a hook and served as our rubbish bag.

"PSSST!" I hissed in annoyance, "Get out of that, Adder!"

He got such a fright, he backed out a bit, then turned to look at me. Big mistake.. this action meant he put his head through the handles of the bag, which pressed against his neck. Thinking the bag had 'grabbed' him, he reacted in lightning speed. As the watcher, however, it all seemed in beautiful slow motion, and I was unable to do anything about what happened next.

He jumped in the air, which resulted in the bag being tugged free from the hook. It settled over his back like a rustly (rustler's??) cape. This added to his fright, so he bounded from the kitchen, down the hall and out the back door with the nasty bag snapping in the wind, still hanging from his neck.

Sort of like Superman, but white on black, with huge terrified green eyes.

With each mighty bound, the bag snapped menacingly in the jetstream, which spurred him to go faster, which made the bag sounds louder, and so on. From Adder's point of view, something really nasty was sitting on his back and holding on around his neck, and it was snapping its teeth in his ear. I doubt if the bag had a point of view (but if it did, it might have said "Wheeeeee!")

Last I saw of Adder he cleared the massive gates in a single stride (there's the Superman analogy again), and hared off down the drive and around the corner at such a speed he should have set a new land-speed record.

Wretch that I am, I collapsed in laughter ...

Wayne got home shortly afterwards and finally found out what I was having hysterics about, then set off to find his poor cat. He found the bag several hundred metres down the road, but no sign of the cat. Adder turned up later that night no worse for wear, and being Adder, had not learned a single lesson from the experience. Within hours he was back, stealing from the replacement rubbish bag. (sigh)

He's a nice old guy, even if he's a bit of a reprobate. I guess he's too old now for a career change, so we're stuck with keeping an eye, an ear and a nostril out for his bad habits.