Duckie is turning into a tom.
He's nearly a year old now and he's begun to fill out into his adult shape.
I'm constantly amazed when I catch sight of him at specific angles and I can see the adult features starting to change his kitteh cute into maturity.
We're at the end of the tow path at the Hackney filterbeds now and there's one good willow that he's be practiciing climbing since our arrival. He's not accustom to the narrow boat dog population that's prevelent here. Happily the dogs are all quite chilled and passive toward the cats, most seem to have cat companions in fact.
Regardless, Duckie has made it clear that he's not down with the dogs.
Last night I was visiting the Norwegien to watch a movie, Duckie was out. Down here about 200m from the Leabridge road it's pretty quiet. People rarely walk the river at night. The towpath is temporarily suspended so its a dead end.
So, what happened was quite surprising.
There was a thump, then the terrible sound I shall never forget of scrabbling of claws against hull.
I bolted to attention.
*Its duckie in the water. *
The Norwegian is in his boots out the door closely followed by me in socks. By the time I get out he's on the roof of his boat looking on both sides to see Duckie and he's yelling at the hooded owner of the Staff that's going mental to put it on its lead.
**The hooded figure is unresponsive. **
*Can you please put your dog on its lead. *
Nothing.
Can you please put your dog on its lead.
The hood raises and I see long blond hair framing a gaunt face wtih glassey eyes and an unfocused stare. She has the lead in her hand and in slow motion begins to approach her dog.
The dog is confused.
He's circling about.
In the confusion, he's missed Duckie's scramble up the bouys (hung in horizontally with extra ropes for claw insertion at the waterline only a few days ago, until hessian can be found) back onto land past him and up the willow.
Eventually the dog is leashed and she continues in her daze to walk toward the fence that blocks the path. The fence is inches from her face and she's clearly unsure as to what to do.
You can't go any further calls the Norwegian, still atop his boat.
My eyes have adjusted and I'm scanning the woods and the tree I know Duckie's been practicing on.
"Duck Duck Duck"
Silence.
*He went into the woods. *
Duck Duck Duck
It's too cold to leave him out here and he may be hurt.
Duck Duck Duck.
Walking toward the willow I see a flash of white. I'm nearly below him when he finally meows back to my call.
He's shaking.
He's dripping.
He looks so small with his hair plastered against the shivering frame.
He won't come down to me.
The dog and its owner have disappeared back down the towpath. I go to my boat and get the fish treats Duckie got for Christmas from Chris and Julia. The smell of those coax him down low enough to allow me to grab him.
He lets me lift him off the tree and I hold him close, soaking my front completely.
Inside he tollerates a rub down with a towel and an inspection for cuts, then goes off to sit and clean in front of the stove.
When the movie is done, I find Duckie, dry and alseep infront of the stove. He doesn't wake up when I pick him up to leave but he starts to purr.
29 Dec. Duckie vs Dog
Duckie is turning into a tom.
He's nearly a year old now and he's begun to fill out into his adult shape.
I'm constantly amazed when I catch sight of him at specific angles and I can see the adult features starting to change his kitteh cute into maturity.
We're at the end of the tow path at the Hackney filterbeds now and there's one good willow that he's be practiciing climbing since our arrival. He's not accustom to the narrow boat dog population that's prevelent here. Happily the dogs are all quite chilled and passive toward the cats, most seem to have cat companions in fact.
Regardless, Duckie has made it clear that he's not down with the dogs.
Last night I was visiting the Norwegien to watch a movie, Duckie was out. Down here about 200m from the Leabridge road it's pretty quiet. People rarely walk the river at night. The towpath is temporarily suspended so its a dead end.
So, what happened was quite surprising.
There was a thump, then the terrible sound I shall never forget of scrabbling of claws against hull.
I bolted to attention.
*Its duckie in the water. *
The Norwegian is in his boots out the door closely followed by me in socks. By the time I get out he's on the roof of his boat looking on both sides to see Duckie and he's yelling at the hooded owner of the Staff that's going mental to put it on its lead.
**The hooded figure is unresponsive. **
*Can you please put your dog on its lead. *
Nothing.
Can you please put your dog on its lead.
The hood raises and I see long blond hair framing a gaunt face wtih glassey eyes and an unfocused stare. She has the lead in her hand and in slow motion begins to approach her dog.
The dog is confused.
He's circling about.
In the confusion, he's missed Duckie's scramble up the bouys (hung in horizontally with extra ropes for claw insertion at the waterline only a few days ago, until hessian can be found) back onto land past him and up the willow.
Eventually the dog is leashed and she continues in her daze to walk toward the fence that blocks the path. The fence is inches from her face and she's clearly unsure as to what to do.
You can't go any further calls the Norwegian, still atop his boat.
My eyes have adjusted and I'm scanning the woods and the tree I know Duckie's been practicing on.
"Duck Duck Duck"
Silence.
*He went into the woods. *
Duck Duck Duck
It's too cold to leave him out here and he may be hurt.
Duck Duck Duck.
Walking toward the willow I see a flash of white. I'm nearly below him when he finally meows back to my call.
He's shaking.
He's dripping.
He looks so small with his hair plastered against the shivering frame.
He won't come down to me.
The dog and its owner have disappeared back down the towpath. I go to my boat and get the fish treats Duckie got for Christmas from Chris and Julia. The smell of those coax him down low enough to allow me to grab him.
He lets me lift him off the tree and I hold him close, soaking my front completely.
Inside he tollerates a rub down with a towel and an inspection for cuts, then goes off to sit and clean in front of the stove.
When the movie is done, I find Duckie, dry and alseep infront of the stove. He doesn't wake up when I pick him up to leave but he starts to purr.