Sunday, 24 March 2013

Things are not always what they seem...

In December we had a new edition to our family, Maxie the girl Manx kitten. MOTH and I have ventured over Mount Glorious into Wivenhoe Valley to pick up a tiny black ball of fluff with a little bobtail from some people on a farm that probably should go to the dentist.

When we got home, Maxie settled right in and Moet was delighted to once again have a feline friend. (Poor TC, our other cat, had died peacefully in his sleep following, what we suspect was a snake bite, a few weeks earlier).

Initially, Roman our big red dog, wanted to eat this quick black flash of fluff and it took me weeks to desensitise him. In fact, I did such a good job, Roman is now obsessed with Maxie and follows her everywhere.

The fine balance of no one eating anyone was maintained and Maxie grew quickly.

Being a Manx, she developed some doglike behaviours and started to come out with me to let the chickens out in the morning and round them up at night. The chickens also grew to ignore the black cat. She also chirps ALL THE TIME and comes when you call her.

And still, Roman is never too far away...

Competition at the food bowl was fierce and by four and a half months, Maxie was the same size as two year old Moet.

Then one morning, while Maxie was lying on the bed grooming herself, I saw it. Maxie was a Max! Within days, two huge black pom poms appeared under (now) his tail and the playfights with Moet were becoming more and more like assault. There was only one solution... I called the vet and they said I had to wait until Max was 6 months old [sigh]. Poor Moet. So I called back the day he turned 5 months and tried again, they agreed and on Friday Max came home from the vet brandishing a tattoo and a haircut that makes him look like a baboon.

The fur will grow back but the pom poms are gone forever.