Rafa likes to live dangerously. Every morning he walks the tightrope of the top rail of our paddock fencing to where my horse is munching his breakfast. Then the game begins!
Sometimes Rafa is knocked off but clings on upside down by his claws, swinging like a monkey until, undaunted, he manages to scramble back up again. Then he repeats his challenge. It all becomes too much for Red when the cat tries to climb down into the feed bowl.
Rafa is one year old today! Don’t be fooled by the halo. He pretends to be an angel but he’s still a little demon with his cheeky ways.
Now it’s his birthday, he must think it’s time for his driving licence.
This car would do. Nice and warm on here anyway.
Or perhaps an old army Land Rover would be handy for scouring the fields for unwary wildlife.
Back inside, a birthday lunch of fishcakes, followed by a long snooze is ideal for a wet August day.
Any fishcakes left over for Poppy? Sorry, I ate them all!
Rafa is still spending the night in our room so that our other cats are free to go in and out of the cat flap as they have always been used to. At bedtime he runs up the stairs and lies on the pillow until we climb in. Unlike the torties, he loves to be petted and stroked, just as Jaffa did. He usually sleeps in any available hollow on top of the duvet or at the foot of the bed. Very quiet, he doesn’t disturb us during the night but in the morning he likes to wake us with a soft tickle from his whiskers as he gently rubs them against our cheeks. Then he crawls under the duvet for a morning cuddle.
However, as soon as we are up and about, Rafa turns into a demon, dashing about the house and leaping up and over furniture as if he’s practising for the Cat Grand National. He has solved the mystery of the cat flap at last and now he entertains himself by zooming in and out repeatedly, relishing the sound of the flap clattering behind him as he streaks through. We are wary of letting him roam out of sight and have been keeping a close watch on him. We certainly don’t want him going out in the evenings while he’s still so young and hasn’t learned the layout of our garden or where the hazards are. The heartbreak of losing Jaffa is still very present.
But with all our caution, it seems we can’t prevent the inevitable tree climbing catastrophe (no pun intended). It’s just a pity Rafa chose one of the tallest trees in the garden for his first climb. And like every other young cat in the universe he discovered going up was much easier than coming down. And so continued to climb. At first we just had no idea where he’d gone. An hour of frantic searching followed. We called and called but there was no response. We looked around all the garden, checking trees and outbuildings, the barn and stables. Nothing! We stared in trepidation at the pond and even waded in, hearts pounding, to search the water in case he’d fallen in.
At last we were relieved to hear a faint mew coming from above. Following the sound we tracked him down to a very tall and bushy conifer.
No chance at all of seeing him there as we realised he must have climbed right up the centre. There was nothing for it but to fetch ladders and saws to start cutting away the heavily fronded branches, starting at the bottom and gradually clearing the trunk so that a ladder could be fitted against it. Two hours later we found a single ladder was nowhere near long enough. Rafa must have climbed even higher as the mewing was coming from a long way up.
Another hour and we were still hacking branches, with no sign of our kitty – only the mewing had now ripened into a loud wailing.
Finally enough branches had been removed to allow for an extension. Two fifteen foot ladders were fixed together and a very gallant ascent was embarked on by the master. By this time it was almost dark. We were flashing torches through the branches, hoping to catch a glimpse of a whiskery face. It was nearly the limit of the ladder’s reach before a movement several feet above revealed a scared ginger kitten peeping out of the dense foliage.
Rafa was eventually coaxed within reach and once grabbed, clung on with all the strength his claws could muster.
Left to his own devices, would he have eventually got down by himself? The fire brigade insists that cats always find a way down when they get hungry enough. But could we have left our little chap out by himself in the cold and dark? Of course we couldn’t.
Was Rafa traumatised by the experience though? Not a bit of it. Despite all the wailing and the worried face on the descent, as soon as he was back in the house he wriggled free and shot straight out of the cat door again. That has been closed off again now so he must be getting a headache trying to butt it open with his head. Sorry, no more unsupervised exploring just yet, Rafa. Our hearts can’t stand it!
Rafa is still determined to play with Zanzi and Treacle and is not at all fazed by their total disregard for him. It’s interesting they should only tolerate his company when they are feeding (even though they would probably be fighting for food in the wild). Rafa moves in close to watch. But as soon as they have finished eating, they usually go straight back outside away from his bothersome chasing and pouncing.
And there lies the mystery!
Where have they gone? One minute they are there, then there’s a rattle, a disappearing tail, and … nothing.
He peers under the sofa where he last saw them run but it looks like just a blank wall. Then he checks out his playhouse. No cats in here.
Where can they have gone?
He so much wanted to play.
Not long now, Rafa, not long till you can go out too!
The start of Christmas preparations. Anticipating lively interference from our new kitty, we thought it best to shut him in the kitchen while we decorated the tree. For the next ten minutes we endured a pitiful wailing that increased in volume the longer he was kept away from us and whatever he was missing out on. Eventually, unable to ignore his cries any longer, we opened the door.
And so the mission began – to strip that tree naked! First Rafa batted at the baubles, jumping up into branches and managing to dislodge enough of them for him to chase under every piece of available furniture. Then he grabbed the tinsel and tugged it free before giving it a good thrashing with his back legs and setting off with it at a gallop through the house, in and out of doors, up and down the stairs, long streams of tinsel streaking out behind him like the tail of a comet.
Well what did we expect!
Finally, exhausted from all this amazing fun, he flopped back down with his friend Poppy, leaving a trail of glittering debris. And what could be more fun for us than dressing the tree all over again!
It’s nearly three years now since Jaffa disappeared one evening and didn’t come home. We have never found out what happened to him.
But a few weeks ago we were contacted by someone who had a cat from the same litter as Treacle (Jaffa’s mother) and who had given birth to 6 kittens, including 2 gingers. So we went to see them straight away and a week later we collected another gorgeous little ginger boy.
He is called Rafa (like Rafa Nadal, the tennis player) – near enough to his cousin without being the same. There will only ever be one Jaffa. And now there’ll only be one Rafa. He looks very like Jaffa but of course he has his own personality. He’s very affectionate and also bold and very, very naughty! He has his own adventure playground with cardboard houses, climbing frames and plenty of toys but he desperately wants to play with our other cats. He has been tormenting Treacle and Zanzibar (Jaffa’s sister), always chasing and pouncing on them. They are not impressed and there have been quite a few fisticuffs. Coming from a litter with lots of siblings he probably can’t understand why they don’t want to join in with his games.
Zanzi has started to thaw a bit now though and we’ve even caught them rubbing noses and whiskers although she will give him a smack with at least one paw when he gets too cheeky. But Treacle still hates him and hisses, spits and growls like a tiger whenever he gets near to her. It doesn’t put him off though – he still keeps pursuing her and it’s Treacle who flees and looks for a safe place to hide. Rafa is not allowed outside yet. All that new world to explore!
Poppy is wonderful with him though and incredibly tolerant, given that he leaps on her, dive-bombs her when she’s trying to sleep, even using his needle-sharp claws to climb her delicate back legs and tries to chew her ears and tail. Poppy sometimes looks at us as if to say ‘How long do I have to put up with this?’ but of our three pets, she is the one who engages with him most, play-biting and letting him roll about under her tummy. She is even letting him share her bed. She really is a dream dog – perfect Poppy!
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