Sunday 17 November 2019

The Week That Was

Well I've made it through another week with the usual madness and mayhem.  The best moment of the week was when I  encountered the soiled pyjama bottoms next the the Roquefort in the fridge, my father denied all knowledge and said they weren't his!

We've had a leak in the kitchen which I mistakenly though was dog or cat wee,  I've been speared in the privates by a log with a surprisingly sharp protrusion which I was unaware of.  The highlight of the week was teetering on a seesaw of wood, over a large puddle, reaching over to take the electronic machine to sign from our rather attractive delivery man, praying that I didn't fall in.

I think I have lost count at how many times I have bent over and felt round the side of the door for the electrical cable tied to the empty gas bottle and pulled it against the door until it was shut, this being to prevent the cats coming in the hall way and using it like a toilet.  All this because the lock in the door has snapped so it doesn't close now.  I have also lost count at how many times the handle to the garage door has fallen off as you shut it and you just pray that it doesn't land in a slop of poo in the garage.  This handle has no inside so is duct taped to the door but the damp house has made the duct tape curl and come off!

In the last few months we have had three fridges pack up on us, we finally have one that is working ok and the cooker has decided it's his turn to play up!  It might be Devine intervention as I usually burn everything, but the cooker has decided to keep going back to 160 no matter what you put it on.  So dinners are taking hours to cook and needless to say they aren't burnt.  If it wasn't for the fact that the cooker is closed I would have said something must have done a wee on it, but this isn't the case.

Dad had his second operation so both eyes are done now.  Hopefully he will get some new glasses soon and will be able to see again. The first operation he fell out with all the hospital staff as he thought they were deliberately leaving him until last and thought he had been there for two days.  This would be impossible as it is a day clinic.  The second operation they kept a nurse with him all day so he didn't give his mind time to get confused.

Ive had my neck scanned by a man who also pummels your boobs in that test, he obviously is a multi skilled consultant.  You lie in a darkened room for ages before he arrives, supposedly in just a bra but luckily I couldn't find my bra on this occasion so was wearing a little vest top, which I was glad about as it was fairly cool lying underneath the air con on a cold day and as my boobs were free and flowing they hung low so no risk of the pointy nipple syndrome.  He then bursts into the room and speaks English, must have cottoned on due to my name, manipulates my arms into a strange yoga position and then tells me to lift my chins up as far as possible hold and don't move.  Went one is placed in such an odd position and told not to move, you immediately need to swallow, cough, scratch and anything else that requires moving.  So for 20 minutes I was trying to put myself on a desert island with warm water lapping at my ankles and sun on my chins, as these were at the highest point now and the sound of waves gently flowing.  This then made me need to wee so I was then concentrating on not having an accident and not moving.  Eventually he finished gave me a gigantic handful of paper towel to remove the cold gel and said everything was ok, I had new lumps but they were ok too.  You then get ushered into a tiny room where you struggle and shove your clothes back on and the ordeal is over.

Well thats most of my week - fun and frolics, as always, at the Funny Farm






Sunday 27 October 2019

Reminiscing

I often find myself reminiscing of days gone by when I only had one bottom, my socks, matched, I only plucked my chin once a month and my life didn't revolve around animal excretion and fur.

I suspect that maybe I have lost a bum cheek or two lately, as my trousers are regularly trying to say hello to my knees and a pair of braces might be on the cards.  I found out that I had four bum cheeks a few years ago.  I was blissfully unaware that I had a couple of baguettes lounging in the middle of my bottom until I was in a little shoes shop trying on a pair of shoes when I caught sight of my back side in the slanted mirror on the floor.  I was horrified and asked my children if I had always had these two half baked baguettes wobbling about in the middle of my bottom and they replied yes!!  This is when the jumpers and t-shirts became longer and I bought a long handled bag that slung casually round the back.  Lately though I think I have downgraded to a couple of small baps as the clothing from waist down has become baggy and not willing to remain put.

I also remember my lovely mum saying to me 'If every I go into hospital don't forget my razor for my chin!' I used to laugh and never dreamt I might be in the position of having the sprouting black storks that say hello everyday.  It's as if I have covered them with miracle grow and fed them nutrients some days. I now have to have my glasses on, a magnifying mirror, a torch and tweezers just to get the little buggers before they come fully out in a flourish.

I also remember when breathing in meant you had a beautiful figure that showed off all your curves.  Nowadays breathing in means you go light headed, red in the face and nothing else changes.  Wearing an underwired bra used to be the best lift and separate garment, these days an underwired bra runs the risk of having the wire escape the bra and make its way through your clothing and up your nose.  The non underwired ones are just limp pieces of material clinging on for dear life to your swinging frontage, giving no leverage whatsoever.  The thick life support and separate bras that start at your neck and end up at your belly button, hold your whole torso in so tightly you go blue in your face and toes, you have to breath through your groin and a tsunami couldn't move anything. I've come to the conclusion that going au natural is probably the better option.


I must say that life on the Funny Farm is different, I spend my day treading on cats while trying to avoid poo, or treading in poo trying to avoid cats.  I've perfected the sniff test to see if somethings been peed on.  I spend my nights putting my father back to bed and telling him it's not morning, or tomorrow, or yesterday. Duct tape is my secret DIY tool and our whole house is held together by it. We have 100s of cats who look to us to care for them, we have lots of dogs that fart and barf (specially the bulldogs), goats and geese, ducks and chickens and life just gets funnier on the funny farm.




Wednesday 6 March 2019

Bed Hair and Toothpaste

Well this morning I woke up with hair that could have been home to a couple of nesting tits.  I kid you not, I am definitely not one of those people who wake up without a hair out of place.

Meditating today didn't go well either - while I was inhaling for four and exhaling for four I have a cat booping me in the face wondering what I was up to!

The week has not gone without its dramas, like me dragging back the wood and wondering why it was like dragging a 100 weight up a mountain, only to find that a wheel had dropped off.

Then the incident in Lidl where I was buried under a display of toothpaste.  I happened to pick the one box that would create a Fred Dipnah moment and left me clinging on to what was left on the display and willing Holly to turn round, as she walked off, without embarrassing myself by shouting 'help'.

We've had the pleasure of seeing a lady dressed in shoes with enormous curling points, long and thin enough that she could pick her nose with them.

Ive burnt a few dinners, Ive put drops in eyes of humans and cats, Ive popped pills into cats, Ive smooshed poo under doors, Ive laughed until I cried and cried until I laughed, all in all its been an uneventful week on the funny farm.



Tuesday 5 February 2019

A Year in the Life of The Funny Farm Cat Rescue

Looking after a rescue centre is hard work, rewarding, sad and happy.  We've had hundreds of pussy cats and kittens come through our centre last year and its been the busiest year yet.  We've been doing this for many year but we became an association last year and have had many events to raise money.

Rescuing cats and kittens is not all roses and powder puff, you have to be strong and dedicated.  It is not for the faint hearted and sometimes its hard to continue.

During the year we have sat up all night pipetting milk into one day old kittens, we've cradled kittens who didn't want to live without their mummy and just faded away, we've dripped hundred of drops in lots of eyes, we've popped many pills down lots of little throats, we've squirted cleaning liquid in lots of ears, we've quickly recognised many diseases, viruses and problems and successfully treated  them all, we've been in the vets at 3am helping to put drips in and injecting little ones, we've watched badly injured cats go through operations and not pull through, we've nursed little sickly kittens back to health, we've watched some kittens fight back with every fibre of their body, we've vaccinated, neutered, micro-chipped, tested and waved goodbye to hundreds of cats as they start their new life in their new homes, we've helped cats with seizures, neurological problems, deaf blind cats and many abandoned cats left behind, we've taken on old cats, handed in to be put to sleep, we've had foster families fall in love with their foster cats and given them a home, we've got through many packets of rubber gloves, shoe protectors, aprons, cat litter, cat food, kill everything cleaner, mops, flea treatment, worm pills and bedding, we've neutered cats in our catch and release programme who don't want to be released and become part of the farm, we've had many cats sitting on us at night all wanting to be loved, we've cried until there were no more tears, laughed until our bellies hurt, loved like our hearts would burst and felt so proud, but above all we've succeeded in finding great homes for so many little ones who would be dead now if we had not have stepped in.

It's all about the cats, not us, not the money, not point scoring or wanting praise, we don't make any money from this we are a non-profit Association, we just do it to try to make a difference to a little furry life with a tiny beating heart, a little life that just wants to have a warm lap and a full tummy and to feel that they belong.

If anyone would like to help us continue our mission it would put joy in our hearts and food in their bowls.

You can donate to our Paypal which is thefunnyfarmrescue@gmail.com

If you would like to see some of our lovely rescued pussy cats and kittens and the work we do, or if you would like to get involved, please visit our Facebook Page

The Funny Farm Cat Rescue

We couldn't do what we do without everyones help and support, this year we had over 60 cats and kittens.

Thank you for taking the time to read this - Heather and Holly xx