Tuesday 7 August 2007

let's go outside....part i



Do you think that someone is trying to tell me something?



The RSPCA told us when we adopted Minou that we should keep her indoors for six weeks until she was comfortable and knew where home was. Judging by the fact that she spends a fair bit of time now sitting in front of the back door mewling, I reckon that 5 weeks indoors is about as much as she can take.

We let her out into the garden as much as we can, but we still feel as though we have to stand there and supervise her to make sure she doesn't get into any mischief. It's not enough though. It's clearly not enough. She spends a lot of the day shut up indoors when we're at work, and although I'm sure she's perfectly happy with this arrangement and spends most of the time asleep, this does mean that she has a lot of energy to burn off when we get back. Just before these photos were taken, I had spent 45 minutes out the back with her getting her to hare around in circles after a small branch from the hedge. As soon as we came back inside and had a bite of tea, she was at the door asking - no, demanding - to be let outside again.

We're going to get a cat-flap fitted in the next week or so, and the plan is that she will have free run during the day and that we'll try to keep her inside when she comes back in for her tea. I'm sure when we actually do let her out that she won't wander all that far: she wants to be outside, but I think she's still quite timid. We were woken up the other night by a terrified cat with saucer eyes jumping onto the bed in the small hours of the morning. We looked out of the window and there were a couple of foxes barking at each other in the street. The big outside world is a scary place, and it's going to be something of a wrench when we let her go out on her own.

Goodness. If C. and I ever have kids, do you think I'm going to be one of those "You're not going out in THAT?!" type fathers?

7 comments:

  1. The father of every girl should be a "You're going out in THAT" type fathers. Kids (and cats) need some sort of structure...and someone looking out that they don't look like an idiot and/or fall in with a bad crowd (foxes). :)

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  2. You absolutely will be that type of father, most of us are, especially with daughters. My daughter tries to sneak by me all the time, Too bad for her.

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  3. The clothes, the make up, the hair... I used to try the old - "you're not going out in that" routine until my ever fun-loving Mum showed my daughter the pictures of me in my 1980's 'New Romantic' days. Blue low-lights, black nail polish, nose-to-ear chain, puffy shirts and Pixie boots.

    It deflated my arguement a little.

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  4. I think it starts with "You're not going out with that nappy showing" and just continues... I might try being a reverse psychology kind of a dad

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  5. And then she'll start dating, and you'll greet her Special Guy at the door, look him up and down, and say to him...

    "So you're the little pervert who's going out with my daughter. I know what you're thinking, and you can forget it!"

    At least, that's what my dad did! *G*

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  6. used to try the old - "you're not going out in that" routine until my ever fun-loving Mum showed my daughter the pictures of me in my 1980's 'New Romantic' days. Blue low-lights, black nail polish, nose-to-ear chain, puffy shirts and Pixie boots.

    It deflated my arguement a little.

    BWAH!

    Ah, but little darling Minou is wanting to spread her little footsies a bit ain't she. Sheesh, how do you resist that little face looking up at the door? Good luck with the cat flap - will it be a tagged kind so only she can get in and out?

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  7. OK mate, this is entirely natural, but highly funny.

    I'm the type, like you, that will keep a constant 'cycling ping' on my sisters kids whilst out. Yeah they have fun, yeah I do my own thing, but every 45-60 seconds or so I ensure I register them on my radar.

    Lesson though - you're gonna have to let the cat go. Its a big cat. It knows where food is now. It will be back. If nothing else, just to shit in your garden.

    So, its tough, but imagine its 16 and going to parties. But remember, don't talk about mating with it until it starts to you know, lick itself.

    heh. sorry, couldn't resist.

    Cute kitty.

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