Hi, peeps!
Well, I threw caution to the wind today to brave the motorways, and was finally able to honour my promise to go see Ron. (Mark, I didn't call you as you said Friday is bad - but I'll be going again in a few weeks.)
Ron's says his cattery had grown to at least double size since Christine (Blip) saw it. I was impressed with the way he's got things organised. After the necessary cuppa, we went to try to catalogue the cats, but it's proved impossible. Ron has at least 7 black and white males - four are brothers gifted to him by the same person. It's obviously murder trying to try them apart.
Scruffy is now eating okay, but still looks weak. He seems to be greatful of the rest in Ron's cattery, and to not have to fight for his dinner. But it broke my heart to see the poor soul waddle over to use the tray. He looked like a crooked little old man, but he's probably only 8/9. He desparately needs to be snuggled up in someone's duvet for some quiet TLC.
Silver and the babies are in tip top condition. She's a first rate Mum, but after seeing her, it's obvious she not much more than a kitten herself. Another wonderful character Ron has is a huge ginger boy, who purrs so loudly and violently I thought there was an earthquake.
It was an inspiration to me to see just what can be done with so few resources. And the cats seem to be so greatful for Ron's help. If I were to put mine in a pen, it wouldn't be long before they smashed the door down, but Ron's little soldiers sit patiently waiting for their turn to br rehomed.
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