Woozle Revisited

Well, what a first week in the Robins household Dinah formerly known as The Woozle formerly known as Dinah has had. She broke out in eczema last Tuesday as well as sharing her fleas with me, so the little critters were zapped straight away. She decided to go on a nil by mouth diet last Thursday and not a drop of food or liquid passed her lips, despite my best efforts. I offered her different flavours, textures and shapes, but no yummy morsel would tempt her to eat. She was wafer thin and looked as though a gust of wind would blow her into the air.


The fabulous heat wave arrived in Manchester on Friday and the sun enticed her into the garden. Initially she had me attached to a piece of string so I couldn't escape or get lost, or so she thought, but after half an hour I was realised from my bonds and allowed to make earrings while following her around the garden (not an easy thing to do, I can tell you, but said pair of earrings were promptly sold).


But the crash diet continued despite the heat. So, on Saturday night, when I was at my wits end after a very tiring but successful day at a craft fair, I told her to buck up her ideas or else it was back to the cats' home. Well, who ever knew that cats understood every word! Sunday morning found her making up for lost time, and she has been stuffing her cute little face ever since and gaining weight.

It's not all good news though. This morning I felt the biggest lymph nodes in her groin and whisked her off to the vets, to discover that the poor little lamb had extremely inflamed gums and a full set of bad teeth, all of which need to be extracted next week. A shot of antibiotics and one of steroids has boosted her no end, so at least I can understand the super-model diet phase she had adopted.


Despite the discomfort she must be experiencing, she has her own bolt hole, my tee shirt cupboard, where she disappears to when it all gets too much, although she hasn't gone there since her treatment this morning. She is settling in well, knows her way around the garden and loves hissy-spitting at Zebra and Dolphin whenever she gets the chance. Dinah the Woozle is in residence.

The Woozle Has Landed

In early December my lovely cat Norman died of stomach cancer, leaving his mum, Zebra, and his brother, Dolphin, searching for him for days. Eventually they cosied up together for a long cold winter. It seemed odd to only have two cats to feed. I've been known to have as many as five at one time, and so my daughter and I decided to visit the local cat sanctuary a couple of days ago and adopt an adult rescue cat. Off we toddled with the intention of bringing home an adult male or even a squeaky little kitten.

Well, the best laid plans of mice and Chicita are always altered by fate, and despite an overwhelming choice of both kittens and adults, it was we humans who were chosen by one lovely female. I was kneeling on the floor as she was let out of her pen, and she promptly made a bee line for my lap and settled herself down. Utterly confused after spending 2 hours getting to know all the cats on offer, and having not even spotted this quiet and gentle mass of black fur in a large pen on the floor, we rushed home to check that daughter's bedroom door closed properly, downed a cup of calming tea and pelted back to the cats' home, keeping our fingers crossed that she hadn't been whisked away by one of the many people perusing the feline collection.


The cat formerly known as Dinah is now officially called The Woozle, a never yet seen but most definitely existing weasel-like character from the Winnie The Pooh stories. Woozle settled in to her new room immediately, drank 12 gallons of milk, ate a few cat bikkies from our hands and settled down in a ball on the bed for the night.


How she could have been named Dinah, heaven only knows. This beautiful and graceful cat has eaten hardly anything since she has been here and is far from a diner. In fact she reminds me of a size zero super model who claims to have overeaten when offered a second lettuce leaf.


It's early days still, and she has just had her first grand tour of the house, met the other guys and done some amazing throaty gurgles. Her vampire-like fangs are huge, especially when she screws up her face to do the hissy fit thing. Zebra and Dolphin are not finding her a threat. After all, she is nothing but a small fluff ball that can't weigh more than an ounce or two.

Critters And Their Daily Demands

As predicted, the demise of the poor moggy yesterday (see previous blog) kept me awake most of last night, and so I have lost the will to do any crafting this afternoon, despite the extensive 'to do' list that I eagerly drew up during breakfastthis morning. I'm feeling guilty about this but as Scarlet O'Hara was fond of saying, "Tomorrow is another day".

As I can safely say that hens are the thickest pets I've ever had, cats are the most sensible. My two cats, Zebra and her one remaining son, Dolphin, have not left the house today, even for a pee. I on the other hand, being a human, have had the responsibility of tending to all my animals' needs. Sid the Sod, my lovely 15 year old bay Welsh cob, resides in sheer idleness in a huge field, 7 miles from here towards the Pennines, and remains outdoors with his home boys all year round. I usually put an all-weather coat on him by mid-December but decided not to bother this winter, as I'd heard many reports that his type are better off unrugged. He has amazingly thick fur at this time of year and only suffers the cold when it has rained and he is too wet to dry out over night. Today, however, I gave in as the forecast here is for more snow overnight, and he is now cozy-bozy in his glam pink duvet, with all the other horses pointing and laughing at his lack of dress sense. Needless to say, I left the camera in the car, which I had to park one mile away as the lumpy country lane is now impassable, so cannot show you how fab he looks, but you can see from this photo, taken a couple of days ago, the thickness of his natural coat and how well equipped he is for this cold weather.

I've been replacing the hens' water bottles several times throughout the day as they are freezing up within half an hour. I fill one up with hot water for them to use and keep another in the house to thaw out, this little routine occuring 8 or 9 times in all. The wild birds positively leapt on the fat balls and trashy white bread that I left for them this morning. They must be having a ball at the moment with everyone sticking food out for them. I spotted a very fat robin, 2 thrushes, a blackbird, blue tits, longtailed tits and many dunnocks and sparrows around the bird feeder within half an hour of their food delivery. I also saw an amazing V formation of about 60 geese flying over the house, all screeching joyfully in the glorious sun. Ain't nature wonderful!