The theme for the Weekly Photo Challenge this week is ‘Contrasts’. Michelle asks:
‘Light and dark, tall and short, happy and sad — this week, share a shot that captures a contrast.’
Thinking of light and dark, what springs to mind immediately is the contrast between my two cats when it is hot and sunny as it was here in the West Country a few days ago.
Maisy, twelve, is a Californian cat. We got her when my daughter was ten from a cat shelter not far from where we lived on the Central Coast. They had a kitten room and despite my initial protestations (as in, “not another pet!”) you don’t walk into a kitten room and leave empty-handed.
Maisy’s mother was feral but had been rescued just before she gave birth, so Maisy was handled and socialised immediately. The staff advised us to keep her indoors because of the risk of skin cancer to her white ears with the sun being so strong in California.
We brought her back with us using the Pet Passport Scheme when we returned to the UK and she still is primarily happy indoors – until the sun shines. Then she loves to pad outside to the garden and sunbathe.
Since she goes out now and then and the sun isn’t as strong here, it isn’t a problem. She never wanders off or jumps the fences, she has far too much finesse for that kind of thing.
She is very well-behaved and knows what she likes. Remind you of anyone?
Eddie on the other hand, is a different kettle of fish (pun
He was born a farm cat in the rural countryside of Dorset. Naughty Eddie, along with his just-as-naughty brothers and sisters, was raised on fresh rabbit and lived the life of Riley, having the run of the farm. He could do what he wanted, when he wanted, thank you very much.
He likes to think he is tough but surprisingly, it is Maisy who will see off another cat if one dares venture into our back garden. Yet, despite being neutered as a kitten, he can’t wait to go outside to patrol his territory. Looking sleek and tough as he prowls about, he thinks he owns the place. He is also ruled by his stomach despite his regular meals at home.
We have to feed the cats separately otherwise he will gannet his down and then barge in on poor Maisy to eat hers if we don’t keep an eye on things.
Once he appeared at our back door with a freshly cooked, seasoned pork chop. Someone was in for a shock when they sat down for dinner that night.
That’s the kind of cat he is.
But he is my boy and he is lovely. He is the only cat I know who lets me hold his paws and when he is cuddly, he is really cuddly. He is a soft ball of furry mischievousness but his thick, black coat doesn’t suit him when it’s hot. Unlike Maisy, he prefers to be indoors when it’s too hot.
He knows where his bread is buttered (or pork chop cooked, as the case may be).
I will forgive him anything, even when he wees in his box during visits to the vet:
These are my contrasting cats!