My border collie cat

It’s hard to know what to write about, at a time like this.

In my lifetime, or in anyone else’s for that matter, there’s never been a time quite like this before.

We are now confronting unprecedented chaos, with the luxury of perspective. We are able to view it all in real time. In theory one supposes, this should be helpful, but human behavior being what it is, I am not so sure.

Dealing with the public, I’ve witnessed how crowds of people react to bad news. There are always those who panic and like a stone in a pond, the ripple effect can be harmful. One can only hope for the best.

While I class among those who are at “higher risk”, I am fortunate to live in comparative isolation and there isn’t much about daily life that needs to change for me.

However, I remember all too well the affects of the Gulf War and 9/11 on the travel industry. What we have now, by all accounts is very much worse, but allowing myself to become anxious for so many people that are affected will help no-one.


So instead, I will tell you about my cat who seems to think she is a border collie.

This is Lucy, the self-appointed “Boss” of my supernumerated cat population.

Although, since Tom passed on, I rather think the dynamic may have changed.

Lucy was one of three Himalayan cats that found their way to my foster home nearly a decade ago.

Though my first cat, who I adored, was black, Yeti, my first Himalayan was with me all of her 17 years and she left me with a passion for these fluffy creatures.

So, when I saw Lucy, I knew that before long she would worm her way up the stairs and into my actual home.

Her mother, Tikka, sent me to hospital for 5 days.

But that’s another story.

It took some time for Lucy to accumulate seniority.

Sadly, though, within a devastating period of 18 months I suddenly lost three cats and Lucy slotted in to the 2 spot.

Not long after, we de-camped to New York and began a whole new life.

At this point Lucy apparently decided she was really quite attached to me.

As in, she needs to be close to me all the time.

She doesn’t sleep in my bed but has to be nearby in order to supervise. Her bed is whichever one she thinks Willow would most like.

I moved in a tree that had two shelves, so Willow would have two more options. Lucy immediately appropriated the top shelf that Willow obviously preferred.

So Willow made do with the lower shelf. Next day, Lucy bedded down in that one and Willow was no longer interested in the upper shelf. Soiled, you know.

So I added another option and Lucy tried to work out how to be in two places at once but gave in, fortunately

After breakfast, Lucy yells at me until I settle at my desk.

And if I get up and move around she comes to round me up.

She doesn’t want to sit on me most of the time and she certainly doesn’t want to be cuddled. God no! She says that demeaning task is for Blackie.

Lucy actually considers me her slave, I think.

Once she’s got me where she wants me, she goes to sleep in the window and that’s where she prefers to stay.

At supper time she will raise her head as if to say “Room service, please!”

And often Lily wants to be waited on as well.

Lily is the senior cat but she’s above all that.

Lily lives in her own world.

But she is still precious.

Blackie, the cuddler. It’s her thing.

She sleeps with my arm around her.

During the day, she leaves me to Lucy and Lily.

6 thoughts on “My border collie cat

  1. Beautiful, well-loved cats. All those personalities — it’s what’s so fascinating about feline friends. Our Rosie is a character, too.

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