General Chat

If you have no interest in cats this is boring. If you hate them it will confirm some of yr prejudice. If you like them then this is a good guide to red cats.

http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2013/oct/10/stray-ginger-cats-pros-cons

When my granny died she had a feisty ginger cat with the original name of "Ginge". She used to feed him dover sole. She died of cancer and Ginge only survived her by a week, whether it was a broken heart or inability to get by without dover sole I shall never know.

At uni my girl friends landlady had 17 ginger cats, all happy and well cared for.

A very large ginger cat came up to me this morning on my way to the shops, just for a 'fuss' .... I'm always a bit wary of gingers lol. Where we used to live there was a massive ginger cat who used to pick a fight with our cats. My brother visited one day while cat was stalking "I'll shoo it away" said brother confidently...never seen him beat such a hasty retreat as 'ginger' chased him back into the house, clawing and spitting :-0

Rollo Thank you for posting this. I have a beautiful ginger Tom cat called Handsome Harry. He was a rescue cat and has been with us for nearly seventeen years. He is the funniest cat I have ever had and he brings joy and love to all who meet him, even ardent cat haters are won over. <3 <3 <3 <3

I have my daughter's ginger Abysinnian (sp) Tigger, sitting beside me at this very moment. I have never known such a lovely friendly boy. The little ones pick him up and cuddle him and when he has had enough all he does is shoot them a glare and walks off. He is now 7 and has never raised a claw to anyone.

I had a wonderful ginger cat called Toby, who lived with me and his sister Lucy and a tortie called Chloe (who adopted me when I was pregant) Toby was such a character, everyone loved him and made a fuss of him as he preened on the front garden wall. He was a wonderful companion and friend to me for ten years but sadly became very poorly and despite constant vet visits and medication, I finally let him go to Rainbow Bridge when my son was a toddler. He would help himself to cat biscuits from the box, poking them out with one paw, and would sprawl across my lap when I was pregnant, looking most indignant if baby kicked him from within the 'cushion' of my stomach.

He once came up to investigate when I was painting the spare room and putting his front paws up onto the chair I was using to rest the paint tray, managed to tip the lot over himself. I had to right the tray, chase him down the stairs following little lilac footprints and grab him before he disappeared. He wasn't happy with the bath he got that day altho he was used to me bathing him and the other cats but it took ages to get the emulsion off his fur and then I had to clean all the footprints away too and the mess in the bedroom.

He was great footwarmer on the bed at night, and if it was really cold he and Lucy would get under the duvet and sleep on my feet. He clawed the base of my bed at the corners to shreds and peed on my brand new beige velvet handmade curtains when a decorator accidentally shut him in the bedroom one day.

I nursed him through cat flu at one point and his sister too, and his little face when he sneezed was so sad, but they both recovered and I was glad I had more entertaining years with him before that awful day.

He was buried in my Dad's garden, no longer cultivated as Dad was too old so lay undisturbed and still does. The lady who got the house after Mum died has never bothered with the huge garden at the back so it's a wilderness with Toby and Lucy buried there and Mum's cat too. I was lucky to have Lucy for many more years and Chloe too.

I miss having cats.

Lizxx