Priorities

Sometimes you get your priorities wrong. Not intentionally but you occationally forget what is important and then get jolted back to reality with a sharp push in the back.

That is what happened on Sunday after that slight sprinkling of rain (or The Perfect Storm as it was in our lovely house with the Southerly aspect....).

We have two cats. We rescued them when they were about 8 weeks old - they were born wild in someones garden and we like to think we saved them from certain death. They are just moggies; no pretending they are anything but that but we love them and have had them with us since 1995. When we moved to NZ, they had to come. No question about it. Well traveled cats these.

They have been with us throughout every move whilst we waited for our house. We've moved 5 times in the last 3 years and each time they have adjusted well and been content to settle back into a life of sleeping and eating and sleeping some more.

Harley Davidson (named as he will back into you until you grab his ears like handle bars at which point he will purr like a large HD) is well adjusted. He made the move from the UK with no fuss and is very friendly to our eldest, Ms R.

Gizmo (named as he has stupidly large ears) is scared. I don't mean just scared, he is terrified and paranoid. He is convinced that his tail is trying to kill him and spends most of the time looking over his shoulder only to discover that damn black tail is still there, taunting him. That is before we got here and moved him around. Now he is convinced that his tail is in league with his ears.....

Now Gizmo has disappeared several times only to come back a day later a bit sad and covered in cobwebs. Harley never disappears. He is dependable. Ms R calls him "the cat that loves me" 'cause he doesn't leap into the air and freak at the slightest noise and will cuddle.

Poor Harley vanished on Sunday. We panicked on Monday afternoon as this is most unusual. Mrs R rang vets today and posted a lost item on Pets on the Net. I always joked that if one of them died I'd get a nice pair of slippers with ears after the amount they'd cost to get here.

It is funny how you take things for granted. With kids you often ignore pets and forget that they need a little stroke and loving too. It took the loss of poor Harley to remind us of what he had been through and that he had stuck with us all these years.

After the panic of the last few days we opened the laundry door tonight and in ran Harley, slightly thinner but as loving as ever. Gizmo hovered in the shadows for a bit to make sure he wasn't followed...... They can sleep on the bed tonight - first time in many years. Gizmo might sleep under it, just in case.....