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ReggieIt’s been three months since my retirement from public service, and I don’t miss my life in the public glare one bit!!

Being a stud cat meant entertaining lady cats, not of my choosing and to be honest it did get a bit tedious having to perform ‘on demand’. Even if I blow my own trumpet, I was good, jolly good! And my resultant  kittens were exquisite! However, I envied those feral toms who could make kittens for love, with a lady of their choice. Then I looked at the Porkie Tortie Chav Cat and wondered which tom in his right mind chose that to make kittens with!!!

I sometimes miss the pedigree shows. My adoring public looking at me whilst I sat for hours and hours, telling me how beautiful and handsome I am, as I sat in my show cage waiting for the inevitable rosette for Best in Show and assorted clutch of other prestigious awards. But I don’t miss the grooming. Hours of bathing and preparation to put a show cat shine on my whiskers ensuring everything was just perfect. I now love having a good grub round getting 'bit's in my fur that Maid has to tease out for me!

My new Maid has a shorter grooming routine which involves bribery. I allow her to give me a good comb whilst she shovels Dreamies and Temptations into my appreciative mouth. We are a good team!.

Maid. They do say you should keep a distant relationship with your staff. Not get involved. However Maid is so besotted with me. She absolutely adores me. Her levels of service quite exemplary, so much so, that I have promoted her to my Executive P.A.. It seemed more appropriate as she is there 24/7 and does literally everything for me. I must admit I am totally in love with her, I follow her round like a little stalker!

Ben giving Reggie a check upJust after retirement I needed to have my vaccinations updated in order to have my holidays. I was booked in with my predecessor,  Dumpty’s personal surgeon; Saint Ben of Park House Vets where I had a thorough Moggy-MOT and it was found that a couple of rotten teeth needed taking out.

Reggie having a yawn showing rotten teethMy surgery took place on a Friday so my P.A. could come from  the place called work to collect me. Then she had the whole weekend to pamper me. Trouble was, when she picked me up Saint Ben said I was still ‘away with the fairies’ with anaesthetic!  I must admit I did think about demoting her that night to skivvy for lack of sympathy!. My eyes were dilated and for some strange reason I felt the need to jog. I jogged from room to room, round and round in each room, just jogged and jogged for ages without stopping. My P.A. just sat with a glass of red wine and laughed. Something about getting the drugs out of my system!

AND she had a sneaky way of putting my anti biotic pills into me by pretending they were my Dreamies. Every pill, every time, went down without a bat of an eyelid. I almost admired her slight of hand!

Nick, the new vet giving Reggie a lovely cuddle I had my ‘after surgery’ check up to make sure everything is going well, with Nick the new vet at the practice. I got something that wasn’t included in the bill; a hug, and it was really lovely. Made me feel a whole lot better. When someone gives you a genuine, heartfelt snuggle. It just makes everything feel so much better

So, I’m now in tip top condition, my fur is growing back and I’m settling into the routine at Tom Cat Towers rather nicely. I poddle round the garden and inspect the extensive collection of catnip bushes planted along the ‘Dumpty Memorial Walk’ which goes right down the garden to the ‘Tushtots Terrace’ (I wonder what will be named after me when I’m gone, hopefully many, many years in the future?!).

Gabion who also lives here at Tom Cat Towers is my best bessie, even though he is a bit rough when he plays and accidentally bit me on my head! He's half my age and twice my size!

But my most favourite part of retirement is sitting on the arm of a chair with PA watching TV, or snuggled in her arms in bed as we snoozle the night away together.

Retirement suits me!!

Lord Reginald Desmond Vagabond of Tom Cat Towers

 

A Morning Kiss

A morning kiss, a discreet touch of his nose landing somewhere on the middle of my face.
Because his long white whiskers tickled, I began every day laughing.

Janet F Faure