Two Chucks and a Tabby Cat: 2012 ends

By Gail Jennie Orbell

Writing as Jennie Orbell, Gail writes romantic, suspense and contemporary fiction. This is a light-hearted look at Gail's other, less glamorous (but far funnier) 'real' life in Leicestershire with her partner, Richard, two chickens and a tabby cat called Chea!

Originally written to amuse her fans, friends and family, her stor

• Language: English
• Publisher: U P Publications Ltd
• Release date: Aug 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781908135650

Gail Jennie Orbell

With a pile of books already published as Jennie Orbell, Gail Jennie Orbell has stepped to one side to take a searing and funny look at her own life in Leicestershire.

Book preview

I’m Back!

15th October

Good Morning

I’m back! And what an effort it has taken. As you can see from the title, ‘this’ was my little surprise. And frankly, it’s a pretty big surprise to me too.

We have been animal free now (except for the chucks) for a year and I put my foot down and said no more animals – and I truly meant it.

Then, on Saturday I ventured to Marks and Spencer and Next, bought a shirt and 4 sweaters (it gets very cold in this house) jumped back into my car and turned the key. With the turning of the key came a thought to my brain.

…Not, let’s concentrate on getting back onto the motorway and getting home in one piece, oh no…

The thought that surfaced was – I’ll just pop into the R.S.P.C.A. to see what little creatures they have – and that, my lovelies, was bloody that.

I wandered down the corridor stopping to look in each cage.

Black cats.

White cats.

All ages and all sizes – some rushing up to the door eager to see me and some cowering in corners. Then I came across a cage with 3 small kitties, all fast asleep, tumbled over each other. At the bottom of the feline pile was a little tabby girl – and that was it!

That little kitty was the one. I popped back to reception, asked all (many) relevant questions and reserved her for collection the following day.

So, she is now here and doing all the things that kittens do, including using my kitchen table leg as a scratching post! Although, to be honest she was very freaky and shy to begin with, but that’s pretty understandable when you consider that she’d been fostered, returned to the R.S.P.C.A., taken away from her 2 brothers, dumped in a car and delivered to a totally new environment.

She has been renamed Chea and hopefully she will have many years of happiness living here with us. One of her predecessors lived to the age of nineteen, so…

The first job, after writing this, is to clip her nails!

My Little Writing Friend…

16th October

I’m pleased to say that some of you have managed to find my writing on my new website.

I still haven’t acquainted myself with all its whistles and bells and I have serious misgivings about certain areas. If someone reading this has a similar site could you please tell me if you have the options here of font and size of font etc. because I can’t find where to activate this. I’m sure it’s me.

As those of you know, who have read this far, I’m a total div when it comes to this kind of thing. Not only that, I’m actually having the greatest difficulty writing anything at all because the nervous, shy little kitty, has metamorphosed into my new best friend.

As you can see from the back cover she is either standing on the computer key pad or asleep in front of it and no attempt from me to put her somewhere more comfortable, to sleep, seems to work. She finds great delight in chasing the cursor and giving the screen a good old pat. Thank goodness I cut her nails yesterday.

If she isn’t doing that she’s asleep on the table between me and the keypad.

Yesterday afternoon I managed, gently, to slide her, sleeping, across the table and onto a sweater, but she’s here now, curled up and sleeping. She has run into the patio door twice this morning so I took the lid from a large square rafia-type box, upended it and leant it against the door so that she had a focal point. Brilliant idea. Except for the fact that yesterday she was playing on top of the box, shredding pieces off it and today she took a flying leap, not realising the lid had been removed and landed in it!

Another thing, this kitten has never encountered ‘real’ meat (so how did she know that a piece of chicken fillet that I had cooking for her on the hob was good to eat).

The smell whipped her into a frenzy.

That was probably why she head-butted the door.

The instincts born into these creatures is amazing.

Obviously I didn’t buy the free range chicken fillet for her. I bought it so that Richard could take some lovely sandwiches to work and then, if there was any left, I thought Chea could have just a little taster.

Yeah, I know, you don’t believe me and so you shouldn’t. Why do you think her predecessor lived to nineteen!

Anything with a heartbeat that comes into this house gets spoilt rotten.

Apparently the R.S.P.C.A still have many kittens looking for good, permanent homes, but a word of warning …if they are anything like this little one you had better be made of sterner stuff, because I’m just a softy who is going to attempt her writing and next masterpiece typing over the back of a curled up, sleeping kitten!

Big Is Good…

17th October

Good Morning.

Another grey and rainy day here in Leicestershire. I guess it’s all we can expect now?

I noticed yesterday that the birch trees are hauling off their leaves. I feel a day in the garden is looming.

When we built the pond, twenty years ago, there were no trees around it. Now saplings have sprung up, become adult trees, and delight in fouling the pond with their dead leaves. So, I’m thinking it’s time the net went on.

I find it really sad at this time of year.

I know the colours of autumn are glorious but everything is dead or dying or preparing for its long, winter sleep.

We planted a few new fruit trees this year, that obviously haven’t done much, so I’ll mulch them to within an inch of their lives to keep their little roots warm and hope for better things from them next year. At least the chucks will enjoy scratching through the leaves that fall, looking for innocent little creatures.

I almost had to call this Chapter sssssssssssssssssssssss as Chea insisted on helping and plonked her pretty little paw on the‘s’ character.

She was a bit spooked this morning when I came down to her. It’s ‘bin’ day today and the neighbour, who for some weird reason delights in putting his bin out at five in the morning, was clanking and banging and I think the sound of it frightened her.

Everything is a ‘new’ thing to her - a new experience.

She’s doing OK though – she’s already learned how to publish posts and turn off the computer without logging out!

Yesterday, she had an encounter with the neighbour’s cat, Rory (name changed to protect the innocent, or not so innocent!)

You might not remember Rory. He is the little soul that delights in poohing in the chucks’ dust-bathing area?

The same little monster that hooked my ancient goldfish out of the pond and chomped its tail and bottom off?

Yeah, that Rory.

He appeared the other side of the patio doors and had a little peek in. He saw Chea at the same time that she saw him. My little kitten sprang up onto tippy toes, bounced sideways towards the door and spat at him.

Rory looked confused.

Chea then raised every hair on her body and appeared to double in size, with a tail that had taken on the proportions of a small Christmas tree and with ears flattened back against her skull, she stood her ground and hissed like a spitting cobra.

Rory looked impressed.

I’ve got a feeling that this little kitten is a bit like her owner. Often damn unsure on the inside, but determined to put on a show of bravery!

I have visitors coming this morning so I’m off to whip up a bit of cream to slap into a Victoria sandwich, which, between play sessions with Chea, I managed to hook out from the bottom of the freezer last night.

So until tomorrow …

Not Pink at All

18th October

If you have been looking at the website, I guess some of you thought you had come to the wrong site? Yesterday we were black, white and orange, and today we are PINK. Pretty odd really because I am the most un-pink female you will ever meet. I’ve got one or two pinky-type clothes hanging in the wardrobe (still with tags on) but that’s about it.

What I mean is …I’m not really ‘girlie’. Never have been. I don’t know if it is because I grew up with two brothers and, being the first born, I was the one in charge.

My father used to call me bossy boots and said I was always organising someone or something. Maybe the ‘girlie’ part of me was destroyed when, at the age of one, my father dropped me head first into the fire place. It couldn’t have helped, could it?

I know that other girls had dolls and prams and I had a cat and a pram. Apparently I used to push it around all over the place and what’s more, the cat loved it. I actually know one female who ‘gardens’ in her Marigold gloves, delicately removing one weed at a time with forefinger and thumb in case she should get her hands dirty. I, on the other hand (literally), buy loads of gardening gloves and site them at relevant positions around the garden and greenhouse and then can’t be bothered to put them on. I’ve found quite a clever way to deal with stained potting-compost nails … you just buy a really deep, dark coloured nail varnish and apply. Nothing shows through, ‘Vampire Red’ or ‘Purple Haze’. Simple! Obviously, wearing nail varnish, you do run the risk of people thinking you are ‘girlie,’ but then they’ll catch me turning over the muck heap and the vision vanishes.

I’m wondering if little Chea will turn out girlie. I did buy her a purple sparkly collar from the R.S.P.C.A. shop when we collected her but she hasn’t modelled it yet. If these early days are anything to go by she’ll turn into a little bruiser. No, swipe that. Not a little bruiser. A huge bruiser. She has already munched her way through a whole box of