MY CAT WILLOW

Cat haters can go away now. TSB, go kick the dog or something. Richard, you bast bassist, go and lock the ginger bastard out of the house or something.


I really like my cat. She is named Willow. I am not sure why she is named that. Perhaps when she was very young she was slim. Nowadays visitors scoff at the name as she is hardly willowy, having put on a bit of weight around the middle. More likely though the name is boringly a reference to pussy willow, a garden weed. Pussy willow is a name given to many of the smaller species of the genus Salix (willows and sallows) when their furry catkins are young in early spring. These species include (among many others): Wikipedia

Pussy Willow (Note: It is best to have the browser set to Safe or Moderate when searching for images of 'Pussy'

As you may have surmised Willow had a previous owner to us. When we moved back to Auckland in 2000, Willow lived at the house next door to us. She was maybe a year old, not much older. When we arrived home from work each day she would come over from next door to greet us. She was well cared for by the neighbours but took an interest in us nevertheless. We were renting a house in Point Chevalier with a property that ran from the road right down to a private beach. The neighbours property was similar, only a bit larger and with a beach house or small bach at the bottom of the garden. When the family would troop down to the beach Willow would tag along right down to the water's edge, quite unusual for a cat.


After a couple of years things went awry next door. At first they seemed like a happy couple, living in a 2+ million dollar property with two small children and a couple of other cats besides Willow. He had a good and high paying job. She stayed at home and tended the gardens beautifully and looked after the children. When He told us that She had gone to Europe on her own for a couple of months holiday we wondered. Some time later we noticed that She used to take herself down to the beach house a lot, on her own (Willow would follow her down there).
Odd people used to turn up sometimes knocking on our door by mistake. At first they looked like hippies 

and later looked a lot rougher. 

The rows started next door and on one occasion took place in their garden one Sunday afternoon. "You are the one that is destroying this family" He shouted. On the Monday He had left. A couple of weeks later the children too had left, moving in with their father who had bought another house in the same road further down. She stayed. We noticed that a few nights a week She would light up the path down to the beach house with little candles and lamps and She would, I think, stay down there all night. 

Eventually the 'Sold' notice went up on the property and She moved away. After She had gone, curious, I looked in the beach house. It was set up as a studio and had a mattress on the floor with lots of candles around. Also around were little empty plastic bags including one full one. 'P'. 

Willow had gone with Her and the other cats. She had moved to the next suburb (someone had given us a forwarding address for mail or something - anyway we had a telephone number).
A week alter Willow turned up at our door. To be more precise she came in by her door - a previously unused cat-door. She greeted us and demanded to join us for dinner. We of course obliged and then rang Her to come and collect her.


This happened again a couple of weeks later and She came and collected Willow again.

A couple of weeks after this we went away overseas for a month. On returning, and collecting Rosie our dog from her holiday place (my sister's) Rosie furiously barked and chased something through the garden and into a drainage pipe. It was Willow. It took me a while to coax her out of the pipe and to bring her into the house. In the house, protective Rosie had taken up a position in the lounge by the fireplace. Willow, when I brought her into the lounge, leapt right up over a couch and onto Rosie giving her a thorough boxing around the ears. She is a feisty cat. She was very thin and we surmised that she had been living rough on our property for at least a couple of weeks. We fed her and telephoned Her to say that it was best that we kept Willow as we were worried at her travelling back to our place and having to cross at least two main and busy roads. She agreed and, to her credit came back twice to check up on Willow.


As a result we think of the experience of living rough and not having enough to eat Willow changed her eating habits. She would demand to have a full bowl of food at all times even if she was not going to eat it there and then. She would sort of panic if the bowl was empty. As a result she has gradually become more like wallowy than willowy.

We have moved house five times since Willow adopted us and have never had any problems with her returning to the original location. We even were confident enough to take her on holiday with us when we used to come up to the holiday house we owned (not far from our house up North). Willow would happily explore the garden and trees and wouldn't venture away.


After Willow's and Rosie's initial spats they settled in and became great mates. When either of them came into the house they would greet the other first, both vocally and by touching noses, before greeting us. In the winter they both slept on a large padded duvet, cuddling in to each other for warmth.

Rosie became Willow's protector, seeing off larger and more aggressive cats that might have a go at Willow when we temporarily moved house while ours was being renovated. Rosie would also come rushing inside to 'tell' me if Willow was doing something unusual like climbing a tree or getting up onto the roof.

Rosie: "I hate to bother you but Willow is up on the roof again"

When Rosie died Willow grieved. She roamed the house and made plaintive noises for some time afterwards.


Willow is a healthy cat. I have constantly taken her to the vets for check-ups and have discussed her phychologically induced eating disorder. The vets have agreed (maybe just to so I won't turn dangerous) and have said that I should keep  a bowl half full of a low-fat dry food to give her peace of mind.
Once, at St Michael's Ave. when I was out on the deck one evening enjoying a glass of wine and looking at the night sky, Willow jumped up on the deck rail to join me. It was slick with night dew and she went right over to a serious drop to the path below. See:  HERE
Fortunately she survived this although she had a slight limp for a while.

Willow enjoys living up North. We have a large elevated deck from which she can survey the garden and the bay. There are enough cool and sunny spots for her to be comfortable with. The house is large enough for her to explore and choose a different sleeping place frequently.
When I decided to work in Auckland each week I was in a dilemma as to what to do with Willow. We decided to rent a 2 bedroom townhouse with a garden (our one bedroom city apartment in Auckland would not be suitable). After moving in to the townhouse we realised that there were too many places on the property for her to get out onto a very busy road. What we do is leave willow at our house up North during the week. I have contracted a local schoolgirl to come in each evening and feed her. We get back here each Friday night and stay through the weekend. It is not ideal but I think is the best solution. Next month, when I have successfully recruited an assistant, I will reduce my working days to three and spend four days a week up North thereby leaving Willow alone only two or three nights a week.