Crazy Cat Lady Part 1 - Eddie

I mentioned the other week that I’m living in cat heaven at the moment. Not only am I actually living with two cats but the surrounded area is littered with the wee beasties. This is absolutely brilliant news if you’re me or like me when it comes to cats, probably less brilliant news for those people who are ambivalent towards them or are unfortunate enough to be walking somewhere with me and have to stop every 5 seconds as I attempt to touch a passing feline.

I can’t not do it you see. I see a cat, I want to try and stroke it. I will stop in the middle of the street and try to coax a shy little kitty out from under the car all the time talking in a peculiar voice and telling them they’re the most beautiful cat I’ve ever seen.

Luckily I don’t have to constantly embarrass myself in public quite as much, now that I’m living somewhere that has a garden. Instead I have devoted my energies to taming the cats that roam about in the vicinity and attempt to make them my friends.

Housemate told me about Eddie von Grumpy Face on my first day in the house. She said he would hang about occasionally and just stare in through the window, creeping you out if you happened to glance up and see him doing it. He looked like pretty much a huge thug.

Huge thugs of cats are my speciality. The first cat I ever knew was Smudge, a great big hulking black and white beast with a temper to rival Naomi Campbell’s. Everyone who visited the house would leave bearing a scar of their time in Smudge’s company.

So I set about trying to make friends with Eddie. Turns out he’s not a thug. Or a grumpy face. He’s a ridiculously great big softy. He’s like a little cockney sparrow, little bit weeeeyyy little bit woaaah. (Apologies to those of you who didn’t watch The Fast Show and have no idea what I’m on about.) What we mistook for a grumpy face is actually a totally gormless cutie face.

And now. He’s mine.

I’m not really a cat thief. I’d be devastated if someone stole my cat from me but cats are independent creatures and they like who they like. And Eddie likes me.

I haven’t fed him. I haven’t covered myself in catnip in an attempt to attract him. He just likes my style. What can I say? I’ve even managed to teach him his new name and if I say “Eddie!” he turns around and comes over to me. He will now appear within 5 minutes of Housemate and I being in the garden – I’m sure he does have a home, he’s too tame and in too good condition to be a stray, but he doesn’t seem to spend that much time in there.

One small problem is that Eddie is now such firm friends with me that I have mistakenly given him the impression that me casa et su casa, as I discovered when I felt someone rubbing against my legs in the kitchen the other day and looked down to see his big fat face staring back up at me.

This is causing some problems as Maggie, Mistress of the House, does not take kindly to interlopers on her property. She has issues with Maud and Maud actually lives there! So if Maggie catches Eddie getting a little bit too close for comfort she chases him off. He doesn’t really go far though, he’ll back off a bit and soon be back again, he’s just ridiculously desperate for Maggie and Maud to be his friends. It’s kind of sad really.

Maud tolerates him when Maggie’s not around, but when Maggie’s hackles start rising, so do Maud’s, leaving poor Eddie a little confused. Housemate and I have said that really we’re not being fair because we’re giving him mixed messages but neither of us seem capable of ignoring him because he’s just so damned lovely. I think as long as we don’t intervene with Maggie’s dismissals of him, harmony should reign.

Meanwhile my relationship with Eddie  continues to burgeon we have now crossed over into the unthinkable territory, he lets me pick him up. This is big news in cat handling people, cats don't just let anyone pick them up you know (or at least that's what I keep telling myself). He's a huge mammoth of a cat, your arms are just full of him and he enjoys a quick snuggle before going on his way.