Some of you may remember my acquisition of 2 guinea pigs and 2 rescue dwarf Russian Hamsters not so long ago. This was basically my reaction to my husband repeatedly saying I couldn’t have a cat. 

Guinea pig gate lasted 2 weeks after which point my husband exclaimed in frustration that if I got rid of the rodents, I could have a sodding cat. I quickly palmed the hamsters off on the au pair who has lots of them in her homeland. She really likes the little creatures. Personally I think they are little shits and can fully see why they were up for rescue, not least because every contact results in a bite significant enough to elicit a scream and cause bloodshed. 

The un yummy mummy would not find herself in such a predicament. She has probably been on the waiting list for a Burmese blue since before her little darlings were born. She probably signed up at about the same time she put her unborn foetus on the waiting list for the local private pre-prep. 

Undeterred, I contacted the local cat rescue centres. It took about 3 calls and 5 minutes to establish that as a family with a 5 year old, 3 year old and 2 year old twins, I was about as low down the adoption eligibity criteria as you could get. In fact I think after the ‘kids question’ they stopped filling in the form and politely found the quickest way to get me off the line. I turned to gumtree.

I found an advert placed by an obviously genuine family seeking a home for their 3 year old Hungarian Tom cat. I felt a glimmer of hope when I saw that the reason was that the third child, a baby, was allergic to him. Clearly, he could deal with kids. After a brief email exchange, we went straight over, and there we met one of the most beautiful cats we had aver seen. I don’t mean that in a ‘Crufts for Cats’ kind of way. What I mean is that his personality shone through as this great golden purring bundle of fur greeted us as though we were lifelong friends. He was comfortable around children, and we fell in love immediately. In the following 5 minutes, Purcy was duly adopted, Hungarian passport transferred, and cat parcelled off to his new home. His family were clearly very sad to see him go. We agreed that they would come and visit the following week.

Thrilled at my stroke of genius and very good luck, I worked hard on settling Purcy into his new home. My elation was short lived. It was on day 3 that one of the twins managed to open the door and let Purcy out. Cue 45 missing cat posters, endless treks round the neighbourhood and a staple gun. I phoned all the vets and was advised to post on Facebook. Here in lay the dilemma. I have just taken a beautiful cat from a loving home, had it 3 days, and lost it. I had, however, become Facebook friends with his old family so I could post regular updates to assure them he was safe and happy. This simply wouldn’t happen to the yummy mummy. Mind you, they probably have a Waitrose ‘Lost Pet Retrieval Service’.

I decided to bite the bullet and post. Thereafter, there were lots of messages to his family assuring them I wouldn’t give up, each one inducing a further feeling of guilt and inadequacy. After 3 days of putting food out (which got eaten) calling 3 times a day, and having endless conversations with an unknown cat in the back garden hedge, I forgot to top up the food bowls outside one evening. Purcy apparently enjoyed the great outdoors, but not enough to hunt his own food. He meowed at the front door until we let him in. He hasn’t looked back since. He has a cat flap, lovely food, and rather likes my bed.

Now for stage 2 of the plan. Purcy’s family had no pet, and we had too many. When Purcy’s  family came to visit, we had lots of guinea pig cuddles. To cut a long story short, they left with the pigs. Subsequent posts show that the guinea pigs have landed on their paws, even munching on homemade Hungarian cakes with added vitamin C. 

So now, I just have a Purcy cat.  Today, I was extremely amused to watch his totally Unyummy interaction with the next door neighbours Tom cat, Norman. Apparently, cat etiquette is very different in Hungary than in the UK. Today, I heard an almighty deep growing from Norman. looking out an upstairs window, I saw Purcy sitting in Norman’s garden, looking at Norman slightly bemused. Norman gave it his best arched back, hiss and spit, and growled. Expecting Purcy to get totally beaten up up (Norman being significantly larger) I intervened as any good Mummy would, by yelling at Norman to scram, and re-assuring Purcy. Apparently, Purcy didn’t need re-assured. He just looked at Norman’s performance as though he had no idea what was going on, and looked up at me as if to say ‘Hi Mummy!’.  Norman gave it another couple of goes with his best intimidation techniques before apparently concluding that this new weird next door neighbour was alarmingly unaware of expected behaviours and ran off. Good one Purcy, glad you are keeping up family appearances! You are officially the un-yummy mummy’s cat.