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Pickle : taken to her bed

Pickle is a very special cat!

Well, that’s what she thinks, certainly : and we agree that she is indeed special ; but …

Well, we do have our doubts as to whether she is a cat at all ; or rather we have our doubts as to whether she sees herself as a cat – or as a four-legged and betailed human!

Pickle is happiest when she’s with us. She has a complex character and is unusually intelligent. She likes to spend her time with other intelligent beings : life is more interesting ; she feels valued.

When she can’t monopolize our time, however, Pickle likes to find a quiet place where she feels above and beyond the range of Dusky, Tabatha and Tom. Our bedroom (as far as Pickle is concerned, that ‘our’ includes herself) is her favourite escape, especially as J and I will let her eat her meals there sometimes, so those greedy cats don’t snatch it from under her refined and sensitive nose.

Lately, though, the other three have been getting wise to this arrangement, and have been increasingly invading her personal space!

Now, as it happens, a week ago, we had to take Pickle to the vet, and that was her first ever experience – in ten years of life – of a pet carrying cage : and she did not much care for it – wailing all the way there and all the way back (though she quite liked being actually at the clinic itself).

Back at home, I didn’t immediately put the cage away – it was left outside the door from our bedroom into the low under-roof store cupboard. A week later, we’ve still not put it away : Pickle has – for the time being – adopted it as her place of refuge from the three feline space invaders!