Suddenly the Heaven's Rolled....

I'd love to have a dog... But I'm allergic to them.

One Touch of a wet nose, and I'm itchy as hell. Many's the day in the office of old I had to head to the loo, strip to my underwear (not a pretty sight I know), and wash all trace of doggie off me, before I could settle at my desk again, without the red raw rash all over my face, and my nose dripping kept me from seeing the screen.

I just can't resist them, see? But to fill the Gap we have the Cats. I had a run in with a Cat at the old office too.

We had a "resident", a boat owner who lived aboard. This was a special gentleman; he had come to the West Coast of Scotland because the air was clear and the leylines told him good things.

We had all giggled about it before his arrival, because "groupies" had turned up, aware of him imminent arrival and wanted to know when and where his boat would be so that they could greet him. He was a Psychic, and Healer, and quite re-known.

When he arrived at the marina, we found him to be charming, and in love with life. He had given up a city career to follow his dream, and being on this boat, where he was, was part of it.

While we smiled at his "Psychic" talents, I was mortified that on his arrival, my Reiki wind kicked in. - Nope, I didn't start bleching or farting in his general direction, but the little tornado I feel in the palm of my hand started to spin, very cold. I sat on my hand as we chatted, wishing it would just stop. I love to deny that anything happens with Reiki, but sometimes, you just can't.

Eventually I stood up, and went over and "earthed" myself on him. And he nodded and said, "i knew you were a fellow light carrier". Oh Heck, I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.

Anyways, I digress. He lived happily on his boat for quite some time, and then tragically he had a stroke. It dawned upon us, that as he was taken away to hospital, he had a "ships cat". What should we do? There was no local family, and strangely the "groupies", didn't come around much when he wasn't there.

We, the boys of the yard and myself volunteered to look after the cat. We would take it in turns to go down and feed the meow, and change it's litter tray.

The boys took the first shift, and each one went down, took one turn, and all was good. I took my turn, and loved the trip down the pontoons and clambering aboard.

Then the trouble started. Second visit. Cat wasn't quite so tolerant. First P had his arm scratched from shoulder to wrist. R, got the leg attack. I felt the boys must be doing something wrong, so when I took my turn, decending into the boat, I called "kitty kitty". As I stood in the galley, I was aware of a sensation at the back of my head, and there it was, standing, level with my head, hackles raised, and tail like a brush. It was staring at me like something possessed.

I smiled at it, trying to remember whether "open" eyes, or "slanted" eyes were a good sign to a cat. Neither worked. It hissed and raised its very sharp claws at me. Bearing in mind that it was very close to my face, I stepped back, and felt the brush. Not taking my eyes off it (I had an experience with a cat previously who particularly enjoyed vampire dives onto neck), and grabbed the brush, moved it around my back and was able from that position to take aim, and I whacked it quickly, as hard as I could, right out of the hatch.

I dropped everything and ran. As I dived out of the hatch, the cat bounced in through the port hole. I slammed the hatch down and kicked the porthole shut. And then sat and gasped.

This was truely the cat of the Devil.

After that run in, we attended the cat in pairs. One armed with a brush to defend the one who was feeding and cleaning.

One afternoon, determined to overcome the horror that this cat had become. I sat on the pontoon, very still and waited for the cat to come to me. I was determined to calm it, and be friends.

I sat, and sat, and eventually it came over, it purred, and it rolled, and pressed its head against my legs, and arms, but I sat, all folded in, giving it no cause for alarm, and only making soothing noises.

All was good for five minutes or so, and then, mid-ecstatic roll on the ground, it lept to it's feet, and sunk its teeth into my elbow. My resulting yowel and swift kick to its arse sent it scurrying to the boat, and never again did I venture down to the boat.



The man did eventually come back to his boat, but long after we had uncovered a daughter and begged her to remove the cat. The RSPCA wouldn't come and take it without the owners permission, because that would be theft.