Hi Reader…. well, when I left off last time my story ended in floods of tears, not mine of course but those of my kind nurse owner who took me to the cat protection league. Now I don’t know why she was crying ’cause I had a whale of a time in there, met a load of new friends and had a few fun fights (with the odd bitten ear and broken claw, that sort of thing) but nothing a stocky cat like me couldn’t handle.
My new garden
Anyway all the scuffles and fighting got me a reputation as being a bit of a tough nut (to crack) and all that. Remember this was a long time before someone tagged me stormin’! and the ladies at the league starting telling people (you know those that were in there to pick up a new pet) that I was not a suitable cat to be housed with other pets or young children. Talk about give a cat a bad name!… most people took this (wrong) advice and just walked by my pen never giving me a second look. But my luck was about to change.
I don’t know how many months rolled by but I was well settled in the place (and settled in my basket too after a lovely fishy meal) when this couple stood at the plastic door and started perusing me… but no, next minute they were gone, looking at Henry across the way they were. If you think I’m stocky you should have seen Henry (some big cat he was)…but no again, they came back over to me and later asked the lady to open the pen so they could take a closer look. Well I was comfy there and could see what was coming so as soon as she touched my back to pick me up a gave her such a clout. Not full claws though but enough to ward her off. It didn’t work and I was well miffed when she brought me out into the cold corridor…and well it was love at first sight… “cracked it” I thought…I was soon on my way home under the storm clouds with my new proud owners…..and had I landed on my feet this time ..you bet I had..
See you next month..
Norm…. (now ed what picture are you going to dig out for this update, it’d better be a good one).
Here y’are Norm. It’s one of you looking pretty dapper in the garden
It’s me Norman.
Hi Reader. I’m Norman, and I’m a cat, a tabby with attitude, so they say, and this is one of my first ever blogs (well, in fact it is my first blog). In it I’m going to tell you a bit about myself…
…well, I live smack dab in the middle of England with my new (dare I say it – No
Ed.) owners (well they might think they own me) – but there is nothing ‘middle of the road’ about me… well they do call me stormin’ Norman after all (but Im no bully cat, honest)!
I’m four years old and have lived with my owners since January 2006, the year when they like to think that they ‘chose’ me from the other cats at the Cat Protection shelter a mile or so from here. However, in reality I actually chose them! As they passed by my pen, I just stretched out my (one white and one mottled) paws and gave a big yawn with my bright white jowls and that was it really, I could tell I’d hooked ’em… They couldn’t get away then…and boy are they in for trouble!
Anyway enough of me for now I’ll continue the story on my next post (I think that’s what they call it).