The Domino effect…

The Domino effect…

I don’t know if you have ever been embarrassed by the behaviour of a member of your family, but my wife and I certainly were this week.

Luckily it was not a human member but one of our many cats.

Domino, our Senior Cat, needed his annual jab so we took him to our vet, Andreas.

Now, if Domino was a human being, he would be the kind you see on TV, surrounded by hostages and armed to the teeth, saying: “OK copper come and get me, you’ll never take me alive.”

Like most sociopaths he is normally placid, if a little distant.

But something really got to him in the vet’s surgery this week.

On his previous visit he was as good as gold, but this time he threw a wobbler of almighty proportions.

First warning was the low growl from the cat basket as Andreas approached.

This prompted the donning of the protective gauntlet.

Then Domino turned into that creature you see in cartoons, the Tasmanian Devil.

He became a blur of black and white fur as he expressed his intense opposition to any form of medical treatment. Perhaps he is a Jehovah’s Witness, I don’t know.

He hurtled from the box and whirled around the room hissing and screaming.

I do hope you are not eating your breakfast as you read this but the fury was accompanied by streams of urine and faeces that seemed to cover most of the exposed areas of the surgery.

Eventually Andreas and his assistant managed to subdue the animal in much the same way as you see those police on American TV shows, using a blanket and a lot of imprecations which, if Domino had been listening, would have insulted him deeply.

Eventually the jab was administered and the patient was returned to his box, which by now resembled an IRA prisoner’s cell during the dirty protests of the 1970s.

The growling and swearing continued.

We would not have been surprised if the rather out-of-breath and dishevelled Andreas had banned this black-and-white bundle of trouble for life but it was at his surgery that we first made acquaintance with Domino as a tiny kitten and from where he joined us one Easter time, so he has been given another chance.

But I am not sure about what will happen the next time Domino sees the cat transporter…

Watch this space.

Branches full of memories

Well, the Christmas tree is up. Yes, I know its only November, but we do love the feeling of getting it out of its box, putting it up and then getting the lights on prior to decoration, with the traditional annual intonation that “it looks a little bent at the top.”

Small adjustment: “Is that better..?”

“Yes, but...”

It’s a big one, 9ft, and it would have been even bigger except that we had to get a man in to make a small cut so that it would fit into its space at the top of the stairs.

Once all the decorations have been brought up and applied to its branches, then it is there to be admired.

Coloured lights for the first time this year, and this has made a real difference. A warm glow to the house rather than the icy beauty of the white lights we had before.

But looking at the tree is rather like looking at the history – so far – of our little family.

We buy extra ornaments every year and they reflect the progress from newly-weds to parents of a young woman who will be graduating from university this year.

There are ornaments that have been going onto that tree from our very first Christmas more than two decades ago and others that reflect the various stages in our lives.

Babyish ones that were purchased when she was still tiny. Cheap ones from supermarkets, more expensive ones from upmarket stores and others from the annual Christmas shop that opens in our village.

The only way that an ornament gets thrown away is if it is damaged beyond repair (new kittens can do this quite nicely, thank you), because each one has a special meaning, a memory enshrined in its tinsel and paint.

They reflect good times and bad times. Christmases when there were few worries and others when there were many.

So it is a bitter-sweet experience looking at that tree and remembering and wondering what the future will bring. Other young faces staring at it in wonder is a profound hope.

The beauty of it reflects not just turkey dinners and presents but that great gift that was given to us all two millennia ago, so that, too, is a special feeling as we look at it.  

So go and get your tree out and enjoy decorating it. It can only be hoped that it will help to lighten the gloom that many families are feeling at this time and remind them that there is always hope in the Christmas message.