Broken bones, real and imagined. And a ninja cat.

If anyone has noticed a lack of posts and comments from me for a while, the reason is that I have been away from home and a bit busy. My poor mum has broken a limb, again. An ankle. Last time she was in plaster (one arm, one leg) it was about 18 months ago, and because some total idiot (IMO) hit her from behind as she was walking in a supermarket car park. It was life changing. The mere thought of broken bones kind of freaks me out. Apparently I told my sister she was one up from a zombie when she had a leg in plaster, although I honestly cannot remember saying it. Years ago when my partner was found to have been walking around on a broken leg for three days I threw up as they showed us the x-ray. Breaking bones easily, as happened this time, without any impact, trauma or fall is truly scary. All I can say is keep up your calcium intake and hope it doesn’t happen to you. Cheese sandwich, anyone?

But a broken bone needs help and company, so Riley (the cat) and I headed south. Like birds. Or the cavalry. Not that the Cavalry went south, particularly, just wherever the action was. Of course my sister and her partner are doing a grand job of looking after mum, but extra hands are always welcome.

Anyhow, once the exciting train trip with a cat was done, Riley and I took up residence in my mum’s living room, the room Riley had only briefly entered at Christmas before his tiny little melt down.

Hopes were high that this trip might ‘build on’ the last. Or at least that is what they say in those self-help manuals. In reality it just means pray for less of a disaster. Prayer was to be of no help here.

As soon as I brought Riley into the building, two of the three house cats (all girls) Poppy and Sandi came to inspect the sorry male specimen in his travel prison. The pheromones must have given him away. I think I registered distain, ennui and resignation on their furry faces. I let the cat out of the bag. Literally. I have a soft-sided cat carrier (like a sports bag) which I purchased with trepidation and is actually rather good. Riley shot under the sideboard. I say ‘shot’. It was fast, but not dignified as it required a fair bit of belly crawling and some shunting with the back paws. He stayed there for most of the evening, although a couple of times he scooted to the other side of the room and hid behind a chair. Nothing like a change of scene.

Eventually everybody went to bed, and with me being alone Riley emerged from the self-imposed exile. Sleep was had, and I was slept on, sporadically. Hopes were still buoyant.

The following morning I could not initially see Riley, but given his previous behaviour, I was not worried, and figured him to be under a cupboard or behind a chair again. But then I couldn‘t see him anywhere. After a bit of calling (he always comes when I call him) I was slightly less confident. The room had an inside lock, which I had used, in case one of the house cats had summoned up the strength of Hercules and launched themselves at the door. Stupid, I know, but sometimes we do these things just in case! So I KNEW he had to be in the room somewhere. After about 30 minutes I was feeling twitchy. Nobody else was up, so I kept it to myself. Another 30 minutes passed, and I had searched under every cupboard, behind every chair, opened every drawer, and called him about a hundred times. Nothing. No squeak, mew or meow.

A tiny amount of panic now. Controlled panic. “It’ll be fine. He can’t have gone anywhere”. But then where IS he? I searched the rest of the house as best I could, trying to be quiet, not scream, as it had now been a couple of hours at least. Then the rest of the household got up, and got involved. Now it is worth saying here that we are all experienced cat owners, so that room was searched like a forensic science team employed on a results only commission basis. Sofa and chairs were upturned (in case he had worked his way into the base, somehow). Cupboard doors and chest-of-drawers were opened, repeatedly. Tiny spaces were invaded. “Riley” was called a bajillion times, by four different people. Nothing. Zip.

By now I was freaking out inside, but trying to stay calm and not scream at well-meant suggestions. It seemed we had some sort of Sherlock Holmes thing going on. A locked room, a missing cat. But we also had a really old building to take into account. Riley can get into pretty small spaces and, as he could not be found by four people searching a room, the only other option would seem that he had got out. But surely that was impossible. As the panic took a further grip I was envisioning some horrible incident with plaster and lath walls and a freaked out cat pushing a hole and ending up falling through into a wall cavity and down two storeys. Nuts, I know, but explanations were scarce. Or, had he somehow got out of the building completely and was running around the town, with no idea where he was?

I went to throw some clothes on, intending to look further afield. And then a shout from my sister. Riley had been found. He had, quite amazingly, hidden himself behind the bureau. Amazingly because it is almost the exact same width as the alcove it fits into, so no room to get around the side: he had to go over the top. Amazingly because the cat-savvy people who knew he was coming filled (almost) all the space behind the bureau with boxes and plastic crates. Amazingly because the whole top of the bureau was covered with several large photos in frames, a piece of framed needlework, a lamp and pc monitor, and a random organza ribbon bow, leaving barely an inch or two between each object. And not one thing had been disturbed. It had not seemed credible that a large cat would have been able to negotiate these obstacles cleanly and find the tiny space behind. Never underestimate the ninja….

Relief was huge. But now we had to get him out. He was behind about 50 inches of solid furniture which had been nudged into an alcove barely wider than the object itself. And Riley was making himself flatter, and flatter with every grasp or grab. My sister gamely tried perching on one leg, on a chair, whilst her beloved held her bum so she didn’t fall backwards. Or forwards, to join the cat. No luck, as we are simply too darn short. My BIL volunteered for round 2. Positions were reversed. Contact was made and Riley was dragged, unwillingly, from his hiding place, making like a rag doll. To stop him bolting straight back there I bundled him into the cat bag again and sat him on my knee, relieved, only for him to return the sentiment and relieve himself on me. A dousing of cat pee on my pyjamas. Nice. Thanks mate.

To think we (ok, I) had delusions of providing help and support, some quiet time and company for my mum who is not supposed to weight bear on her leg, and who within a few hours of our arrival was trying to upturn her sofa until we stopped her….

So, I have no card or paper craft to share today. But I have to do something with my hands, so made a trip to a local haberdashery store, bought a couple of balls of this yummy King Cole Riot yarn and have started knitting a scarf.






The slide show and tiled or mosaic picture options do not seem to be working for me today. Again. Grrrrr! I will just offer up this shot of a half-finished scarf looking a bit like a T-Rex.

Apologies for missing posts and comments. Hopefully now you know I have had my hands full!!






77 thoughts on “Broken bones, real and imagined. And a ninja cat.

  1. Your poor mother. Your poor cat. Your poor pj’s…oh I shed tears of fright when I read about pleased you found him. Why do they do that?? I spent half an hour today trying to drag Ting out of the hedge in a slush storm while my son had gone out and my partner shouted totally useless advice from the porch.
    I hope your mum is recovering…I keep telling my mother to increase her calcium intake as she snorts contemptuosly at me through a cloud of cigarette smoke…
    Love the scarf…could you knit a dinosaur?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I know. He just did not want to be found. He tried umpteen times to get back into the same space again! Thanks for the kind wishes. We are hoping it is a minimum amount of time with the ‘boot of boredom’ and then back to normal. I expect Ting looked at the weather and was just hedging her bets….

      Liked by 1 person

  2. OH my gosh what an adventure. I am so sorry to hear about your mother, I hope she has quick recovery on her ankle. We just had the same thing happen to an Aunt, but she is in the hospital for 4 weeks. Bones, as we age, need the extra care, I agree it is scary. While I feel for your mother, I couldn’t help but find myself laughing at your description of the undignified bolting of your cat. Then your telling of your “forensic team” type search had me laughing, I had to read it aloud to my kids to suffice their curiosity. We all had a good chuckle.
    My best wishes for your mother and yes, your absence has been felt.
    P.S. I am rather amazed that you can knit with three cats in the house. Your scarf looks great!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for your kind wishes. I am flattered you read my ramblings to your kids! Funnily enough, not one single cat I have owned or looked after has ever chased a ball of wool!

      Liked by 1 person

  3. best wishes to your mother.
    And as a cat-owner ( well, let’s say I am owned by a cat) I know how anxious you must have been not finding him for hours and worst not responding to you calling him.
    Maybe you can use some cloth to stroke the home-cats with? When you stroke your cat with that cloth he will smell like an inhabitant to the other cats and they will be less agressive.
    Take care of yourself .., and Riley 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Beautiful yarn and scarf, PaperPuff. 🙂 I’m sorry to hear about your mum’s ankle. Oh, kitties – they can be funny sometimes (all the time?) 🙂 I hope that your mom feels better soon, glad to hear she’s on the mend.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Sorry to hear about your mother; I do hope her recovery will be swift! What is it about these timid boy cats and new surroundings?! I think Riley and Gulliver must be related!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes, they are way less brave than their female counterparts! My mum’s cat took to her new home and housemates with hardly any bother. Now she is the diplomat of the house and gets on well with Sandi and Sossage. But she hissed at Riley when he tried to be friends! Thanks for the kind words.

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Oh, dear, I did think that something must be going on that has kept you from your blog. Sorry to hear about your mum; that is a scary thing when they get older. My husband and I just got back from visiting my mother and dad today, and Mom is very unsteady on her feet; we made her take a cane when we went out because we are terrified that she is going to fall and break a hip or something, but she always thinks she will be fine because she holds on to my dad. However, they are both over 80, and one of these days, if she falls she might just pull him down with her! I wish we lived right next door instead of 75 miles away. In the meantime, please tell your mum that I’m thinking of her and wishing her a quick recovery. Would she like a Get Well card? And RILEY! I can never get enough of hearing about his exploits; sorry he worried you and glad that he is now found! Years ago, my SIL had a cat that she never let outside, and one day she couldn’t find him. Like you, we searched the house, top to bottom, and she became convinced that he had somehow gotten out. She was in tears, imagining all of the dangerous situations her cat could be in. I slipped away and said a little private prayer for her to find Morris, and shortly after that she opened one of her bureau drawers and there was her cat, curled up on top of her T-shirts! He had literally been in that drawer all day, and when she opened it, he got up, gave a leisurely stretch, then hopped out, like nothing had happened! (P.S. I love your beautiful dino-scarf!)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Sounds like Riley and Morris might be related!! I hope your parents stay healthy and safe. It is very difficult for people used to their independence to lose it, either temporarily or longer term. I have been told that most of the personal alarms or panic buttons installed in the homes of older people are done at the request of the family, not the person/people they are protecting, who often really don’t want them at all. But we worry, right? Mum reads all the comments on my blog, but I will also pass on your good wishes. Thank you!

      Liked by 1 person

  7. Oh so sorry about your Mom! A broken bone is not fun, no matter what your age! I love the story about Riley! He sounds like such a great cat to have around! Such fun (LOL) when he is not in his normal habitat. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  8. The ability of a cat to disappear amazes me. Up until the time my two cats acquired me, I was a dog person. Dogs don’t hide… at least not well. The best my cocker spaniel managed was beneath a table that was little more than 12 inches wide and stood a good 3 feet tall. Perhaps she thought she was invisible as long as there was some sort of “roof” above her head.

    Imagine my surprise the first time I could not find my indoor cats. There simply are not that many hiding places, or so I thought. I had no idea the lovely little monsters would split the lining beneath the couch and crawl inside. After 8 years, I feel like I have a reasonably good handle on the nooks and crannies they stuff themselves into in order to hide. That is, until the next time I can’t find them.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ah, yours are also ninja, then!! Dogs are less complicated souls. They reckon they can fool us as easily as we fool them, I think! You have to love them for that!!

      Liked by 1 person

  9. I haven’t read the full story yet, but I’m so sorry for your mom’s broken leg! Wishing her good recovery! I don’t say fast, as fast is not always the best.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Your story about searching for Riley sounds like a quiz! Sometimes I feel the same when our dog manages to crawl under a pretty low bed while I’m searching for her around our apartment, checking the entrance and balcony door.

        Our cat managed to jump on the fridge and then on the cupboard in the kitchen and hide there behind a big ceramic vase just under the ceiling… or somehow made his way into the wardrobe to hide behind our coats.

        I like the color of your yarn and the pattern you used for scarf. Pictures are perfect!

        Liked by 1 person

      1. He’s full of his own unique brand of charm, which today has meant me rewashing all my laundry as he’s walked over the airer and slept in the middle – the unmistakable little muddy footprints of being owned by a cat

        Liked by 1 person

  10. So sorry to hear about your Mum. I hope she has a speedy recovery. Sending some healing hugs. Maybe a tracking device would be a good idea for Riley!!!! lol! What a character! Really enjoyed reading the post. Take care.
    Hugs Flo xx

    Liked by 1 person

  11. I have missed you. I love the tale of Riley – never to be underestimated cats ability to climb into the smallest of spaces. Your descriptions are wonderfully funny. I hope your mum recovers well. xx

    Liked by 1 person

  12. You’re so funny! I love your recits. We have a large Belgian Shepard who’s afraid of loud noises and everytime theres a loud bang he goes scuttling to the cellar…its quite funny. Hope your mum is recovering well.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s