Here we are on the last day of March already. In some ways, 2020 is flying by.
This perception is aided by the fact that lockdown has reduced our accessible world to our own homes. Without the punctuation points of going out for walks by the sea, shopping trips, restaurant meals, seeing friends, and even medical or dental appointments, the days are blurring into one another.
Flashback to 2011
But today, March 31st, is a significant date for us. On this date, back in 2011, Dusty – our blue-eyed outdoor cat – and his three siblings were born just the other side of the wall at the far end of our field. You can read about his mum, Jetta, here.
Dusty is the only one of the first litter of Jetta’s kittens who’s still with us. Nine years old today. It’s not a bad age for a cat that was born feral and lives outdoors. He comes twice a day for his food and, although he has his own little territory somewhere down the lane, he also spends the majority of his daytime around our property.
My Dad suggested the name; he and his brother Ray were here for their spring holiday in May 2011, when Jetta decided it was time to bring her kittens up to meet us all for the first time. What joyful days we had watching these little bundles playing on the terraces and in the flowerpots. Dad said that the blue-eyed kitten reminded him of Dusty Springfield – and the name Dusty stuck. Not sure what Ms Springfield would have thought about that.
A Character of His Own
Like all our cats, Dusty has his own individual character traits. He loves to spend time in our company. If I go into the garden to do some weeding, he will appear suddenly and sit and watch what I’m doing. He loves to rub his head against our legs and goes a bit gooey when you stroke him anywhere on his head or neck.
But Dusty won’t be picked up, sit on a lap, or come into the house. He sometimes appears later than the others for his breakfast and – although the cats’ food bowls are always in the same place on our covered terrace – he usually sits outside our front door until one of us goes out and escorts him – à la maître d’ – to where his food is waiting. It’s as though he doesn’t want us to think he’s taking being fed for granted. Amusing cat.
Anyway, happy birthday to Dusty. He, of course, has no idea it’s his birthday, or that he’s nine years old (in human years). In cat years, that makes him around 52.
To mark the occasion, here are a few photos of the birthday boy.
Jan Edwards ©2020