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Authors: Denis O'Connor
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of the garden at first hand. With eyes half-closed and nostrils quivering he looked to be in a state of pure ecstasy. Then, as he
realized the immensity of space around and above him, his body began to tremble and shake all over. This situation lasted for several minutes before, at last, summoning up all his courage, he moved forward with exaggerated caution and deliberation. Moving only a few steps at a time and then halting to sniff the air, he proceeded as if he was stalking some huge and dangerous prey. After a while his movements ceased altogether and he lay down totally exhausted by his efforts. I guessed that the experience was proving too much for him. Tenderly scooping up the tired kitten, I laid him back in his jug whereupon he curled himself around as cats do and fell fast asleep. Toby Jug had made his first venture into the great wide world. He was no doubt now dreaming about his adventures, judging from the way his sleeping body gave occasional tremors, punctuated by squeaks, as if he was reliving the whole episode over and over again.
I decided to give him time to digest his encounter with the garden. There was a problem in that, for his own safety, I couldnât leave him out of his jug unless I could remain present. However, if I left him in the jug for security then he would not be able to see things clearly because of the distortion caused by the curvature of the glass and this would only increase his distress. Eventually, I remembered an old birdcage in the garage, left behind by the previous occupants of the cottage. I wondered if this might be the
answer. With some difficulty I retrieved it from where it hung beneath a dusty beam. After cleaning it out I tried him inside. It seemed to solve the problem admirably, at least for the time-being. Far from objecting to this indignity, Toby Jug seemed very much at home in his cage and explored it with great curiosity.
The next day was sunny and mild so I thought I would try him in the cage on an upstairs window sill with the window open. From this position he was able to see the entire garden. He became very excited and agitated by the small songbirds whizzing between the trees. After a few days I felt confident that he could cope with the garden at first hand and with his usual affable approach to life he really began to enjoy the experience safe within the confines of the cage, which I moved around periodically on the patio so that he could have a different view of his world. This was also a secure way of familiarizing him with the garden in preparation for the time when he could wander at will.
Meanwhile, I was free to do some minor gardening jobs. As long as Toby could see me he was content but if he lost sight of me he would panic and cry out until we were reunited. Needless to say, on many occasions I got very little gardening done.
Fresh, sunny, spring days and chilly nights eventually gave way to mostly wet summer days and not so chilly nights. Toby Jug grew in size and gained in health. At long
last I was able to dispense not only with his protective cage but also with the jug. It was clear that Toby would always be small in comparison with other cats but, considering what he was like when I rescued him, the change was gargantuan.
There remained, however, the problem of safety. How freely was I prepared to allow Toby to wander now that he had graduated from the protective environments of both the jug and the birdcage? I concluded that there would have to be limits imposed until he was mature enough to care for himself outdoors. The solution lay in buying him a harness.
One day I took Toby Jug with me to a local pet shop. The shopkeeper offered various harnesses for cats and rabbits which were far too large for Tobyâs small frame. The man, in his late sixties, was anxious to please and seemed both challenged and amused by the problem of getting a harness to fit Toby Jug. After desperately searching his mind, with a great deal of
realized the immensity of space around and above him, his body began to tremble and shake all over. This situation lasted for several minutes before, at last, summoning up all his courage, he moved forward with exaggerated caution and deliberation. Moving only a few steps at a time and then halting to sniff the air, he proceeded as if he was stalking some huge and dangerous prey. After a while his movements ceased altogether and he lay down totally exhausted by his efforts. I guessed that the experience was proving too much for him. Tenderly scooping up the tired kitten, I laid him back in his jug whereupon he curled himself around as cats do and fell fast asleep. Toby Jug had made his first venture into the great wide world. He was no doubt now dreaming about his adventures, judging from the way his sleeping body gave occasional tremors, punctuated by squeaks, as if he was reliving the whole episode over and over again.
I decided to give him time to digest his encounter with the garden. There was a problem in that, for his own safety, I couldnât leave him out of his jug unless I could remain present. However, if I left him in the jug for security then he would not be able to see things clearly because of the distortion caused by the curvature of the glass and this would only increase his distress. Eventually, I remembered an old birdcage in the garage, left behind by the previous occupants of the cottage. I wondered if this might be the
answer. With some difficulty I retrieved it from where it hung beneath a dusty beam. After cleaning it out I tried him inside. It seemed to solve the problem admirably, at least for the time-being. Far from objecting to this indignity, Toby Jug seemed very much at home in his cage and explored it with great curiosity.
The next day was sunny and mild so I thought I would try him in the cage on an upstairs window sill with the window open. From this position he was able to see the entire garden. He became very excited and agitated by the small songbirds whizzing between the trees. After a few days I felt confident that he could cope with the garden at first hand and with his usual affable approach to life he really began to enjoy the experience safe within the confines of the cage, which I moved around periodically on the patio so that he could have a different view of his world. This was also a secure way of familiarizing him with the garden in preparation for the time when he could wander at will.
Meanwhile, I was free to do some minor gardening jobs. As long as Toby could see me he was content but if he lost sight of me he would panic and cry out until we were reunited. Needless to say, on many occasions I got very little gardening done.
Fresh, sunny, spring days and chilly nights eventually gave way to mostly wet summer days and not so chilly nights. Toby Jug grew in size and gained in health. At long
last I was able to dispense not only with his protective cage but also with the jug. It was clear that Toby would always be small in comparison with other cats but, considering what he was like when I rescued him, the change was gargantuan.
There remained, however, the problem of safety. How freely was I prepared to allow Toby to wander now that he had graduated from the protective environments of both the jug and the birdcage? I concluded that there would have to be limits imposed until he was mature enough to care for himself outdoors. The solution lay in buying him a harness.
One day I took Toby Jug with me to a local pet shop. The shopkeeper offered various harnesses for cats and rabbits which were far too large for Tobyâs small frame. The man, in his late sixties, was anxious to please and seemed both challenged and amused by the problem of getting a harness to fit Toby Jug. After desperately searching his mind, with a great deal of
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