Furry Friends in the City

I made friends I made friends I made friends!!! If anyone has seen me go from ultra bitch / event mode /professional city chick into cat lover extraordinaire aged 6 and a half in a millisecond they can imagine just how excited I am now!

I went for a jog (yes you have read that word correctly) because it was a glorious ten degrees with clear skies and I stuffed myself full of food at Chez Linstroms while working on the weekend.

I headed straight to the Mudchute Farm and after a quick backwards run and ten trips of the stairs (yeah I am working all those muscles groups!) I got distracted by the commuter sheep, the mallrat goats, and the very confused llamas in some parkland across from the Canary Wharf skyline.

And then I found Scrat. I heard Scrat before I met him. A strange almost childlike cry but far too rhythmic to be human. He was in amongst some ugly bushes along the fence line in a not so glam area of Mudchute (ie Millwall).

I called Scrat and to my surprise he came running. He sniffed. And I crouched. He sniffed more. I could see that his coat was matted down his body and his eyes looked like he could be healthier. I tried to scratch his head but he was a little edgy but after a lot more sniffing and rubbing of about an inch of fur all over my legs he allowed me a pat. Passerbys smiled at me and my new friend, who I was animatedly talking to.

After a while I realised I needed to get going. I stood up and waved at Scrat. Yes I waved at a cat. I honestly thought he was going to lift a paw and wave back because I realised I stood there looking at him expectantly.

I took a few steps to move away and Scrat ran after me. You can imagine how pathetic this scene got... He was plaintive in his mewing and my heart was broken. Fortunately this tender moment was broken when Scrat discovered something edible nestled amongst the garden gnomes, St George flags and carefully lettered signs athe Mudchute Memorial Allotment Society (I kid you not).

I jogged back into the park, giggling at a sign that read "Please approach the cows with caution. They can be unpredictable and aggressive". My giggling stopped when I saw them. My god it's been a long time since I have stood shoulder to shoulder with a cow. They are bloody big animals. And they have those big glassy eyes which look at you with no comprehension like an over medicated patient on an acute ward... I didn't jog (after all they are unpredictable) but I walked pretty briskly in anticipation of their aggression.

Back in south dock, I stopped to watch a gorgeous sunset. Gold and orange, a ball sinking into the docks and making the skyscrapers sparkle. I looked at it until my eyes hurt and all I could see was burning spots in front of me. Which is why I thought PowderPuff was a squirrel when he landed from a nearby blossoming tree onto the pavement in front of my sneakers. When I realised Powerpuff was in fact a fluffy tabby, I called her and she came running, fluffy tail upright like a flag. She sniffed, and rubbed, and we had a pat. She was much better loved than Scrat though she had a tiny abcess. She would run back to her tree, and I would call her, and she would run, with her ridiculously puffy tail bringing up the rear.

I jogged home, pretty happy at today's finds, thinking about Paws (that is another story) and thinking London was alright for now. Rain is forecast for the next few days. Rain, as described by the Channel Five weather girl as "pretty miserable relentless rain that is a horrible way to start the day." Rain being a bit of a dampner for jogging and definitely not good weather for cats, lets see if my London pride will continue for the next few days...

Above photo is neither Scrat nor 'Puff, but a Latvian exchange cat...