Reggie swanning down the pathI’m just about to raise my martini glass of iced milk, shaken not stirred, after my pre-prandial, evening sashay down the garden, past the impressive row of catnip bushes as I reflect on my past few months here at Tom Cat Towers.

My life as a secret agent was sooo hectic; all those stud duties and pedigree cat shows. The work (and hours) involved in ensuring I was in tip top condition and, of course, servicing my adoring lady cats with whom I left a clutch of adorable cute kittens was quite exhausting and so demanding. I’m glad it’s over as I have settled into a life less public in Tom Cat Towers with my personal enclosed garden and international collection of catnip bushes.

I now wake up with a whole day of pleasure and pampering stretching out before me. My new P.A. gently wakes me with a small dish of delish brekkers, then a few cuddles and a bit of grooming before I lie on my back as an invitation to her for a good tummy tickle. Then it’s time for a chit chat on the bed with my P.A. as we plan my daily social calendar and indulge in delectable nibbles along with a bit more of a groom and a whisker rub.

I enjoy a bit of a snoozles in my personal moglu. Then it’s playtime with my new bro; Gabion. He usually calls on my moglu to wake me up. We have a swift hour chasing each other noisily round Tom Cat Towers and playfighting. A quick ten minutes chasing my collection of ping pong balls round, clattering them into furniture and under sideboards, before a nap on the arm of the chair with my P.A. and some chew sticks as she watches the news on TV and catch up with what’s going on in the world.

I then decamp to the patio windows to supervise the clouds of blackbirds, starlings, sparrows and wood pigeons which come right up the glass to look at me whilst eating raisins.

If the weather is clement, I may poddle down the garden to the ancient hedgerow to watch, fascinated, the various mice and voles who pick up seeds dropped by birds and squirrels from the feeders higher up in the hawthorns.

So, all in all, I think retirement suits me. As I was shaved just before I retired from the public glare, my fur is coming on really well and P.A. is saving my groomed off fluffs in a bag as says she will make a pillow for us (humans do have some bizarre habits). I have put on weight, I didn’t realise just how physically demanding stud cat duties and personal appearances at show really were, they certainly kept me trim and in shape!!

Treats are on hand whenever I get the munchies, dispensed by P.A. into my welcoming chops. I must admit the range of treats I have access to is quite impressive. I almost get the impression my P.A. has cut down on human catnip, red wine, in order to spend more money on fabulous epicurean titbits to hand feed to me.

Then at the end of the day, when P.A. is fast asleep and I have been watching the comings and goings in the garden until almost dawn from the comfort of a wicker chair by the patio window, I will silently and discreetly jump onto the big brass bed and snuggle up to P.A. so I am there when she wakes up and she is there for me when I wake up to start another day of pure indulgence.

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