Recently Marlowe and I have begun walking each day, when the weather is agreeable. We walk around the farm for about an hour and half, exploring different routes each day. Marlowe, who could do with improving his fitness, is enjoying himself most days and so far has discovered three new dams he didn’t know existed. Marlowe takes every advantage of these dams and enjoys a dip, usually half way through out walk.
Our walks begin with stealth. Cleo is now far too old and frail to come with us on our walks, but Cleo doesn’t accept this situation and feels abandoned if we leave without her. I usually try to sneak out with Marlowe while Cleo is sleeping peacefully in her favourite sunny spot. Sneaking anywhere with Marlowe is a difficult task. Marlowe doesn’t do sneaking, he does bounding from place to place, with tail wagging and making as much noise as he can, especially when he knows a walk is in the offing. No amount of shhhhing and reminding Marlowe that we are sneaking out helps. Marlowe is full of pre-walking joy and wants everyone to know it.
If, as is often the case, Cleo wakes up during Marlowe’s pre-walk bounding, and realises we are about to desert her, the only thing to do is to take Cleo on a short walk down to our machinery shed and back. This is a five-minute walk at best, and Cleo soon realises that a five-minute walk is about her limit these days. We walk slowly at a Cleo pace there and back. Marlowe contents himself with running around the paddock and generally letting off steam – walking at a Cleo pace is not for him. Once back inside the house yard Cleo lies down, and while not exactly happy that Marlowe and I head out again, at least she doesn’t want to follow us.
Graeme has reported that if Marlowe’s pre-walk celebration doesn’t wake Cleo, and she wakes after we have left, she immediately finds her support squeaky and carries it around with her until we return. Cleo goes into full pathetic mode and refuses to be happy until we are back. This pink pig, support squeaky, seen beside Cleo in the photo below, is something Cleo has had for a long time (well, she’s had a few of them as they fall to pieces and are replaced, but to Cleo they are the same beloved squeaky toy).
When Aslan died years ago, Cleo mourned him for months. She carried her little pink pig everywhere while whining and searching for her friend. It broke my heart to watch her missing her best friend. After Marlowe arrived, Cleo pretended she didn’t love the puppy. She informed me, on Marlowe’s arrival that she was too old for puppy nonsense these days and proceeded to ignore the puppy - until Marlowe had to stay at the vets’ over night when he had a huge abscess on his jaw. When we arrived home without Marlowe, the squeaky toy came out and remained by Cleo’s side until Marlowe returned. Cleo, realising she’d given herself away, never again pretended she didn’t love the new pup.
So, after most walks we are met at the gate by Cleo and her support squeaky toy. Marlowe runs up to her to tell her all the news – how many birds he saw, where the latest new found dam is located and how cold the water is. Cleo patiently listens to all Marlowe’s news and rubs noses with him again, before settling down in her favourite sunny spot, confident that the big fellow won’t disappear again today.
Venus, our ex-feral cat and honorary dog, often decides to come along on our walk. Venus spends most of her days with the two Saint Bernards – Cleo is her dog. Why she bonded with Cleo after moving in and retiring from the feral life we don’t know, but Cleo is definitely the dog she loves. She’s fond of Marlowe as well, but it’s Cleo all the way for Venus. She prefers to sleep with the dogs, rather than on the fur cat bed, often sleeping in the middle of Marlowe’s bed next to Cleo’s bed and causing poor Marlowe to have to seek other arrangements until I come to the rescue. Venus is often is found sharing Cleo’s sunny spot – two friends together.
On her first foray into the marathon walks, when Venus began following Marlowe and me on our walk, I explained the length of our walks to her and suggested she might like to stay home. In the past, when Cleo was able to walk a bit further, Cleo, Marlowe and I would walk for about half an hour. Venus would follow us on our walks, always trailing behind, but always staying with us. Once we turned for home, Venus would lead the way, glad that her pack had finally come to its senses and were done with this silly rambling idea. Venus, after my talk with her regarding the length of our walks these days, ignored me completely and insisted on coming along. I thought she’d simply sit down and wait for us if she got tired, or head home. I was wrong.
Venus valiantly followed us, complaining most of the way that we’d gone too far and should turn around. Marlowe and I waited for her to catch up when her complaints were really loud and on a number of occasions I carried Venus for a while so she could rest her little, tired legs. Venus is a heavy cat. I really get an extra workout those days. We stop for a rest when we found a suitable outcrop of rocks and Venus enjoys sitting in the sun, although I think she enjoys not walking more.
After her first long walk with us, by the time we got home Venus was totally fed up with walking and, tail straight up in the air to register her disapproval of dogs and humans who walked far beyond the endurance of a fat cat, she left us, without even saying hello to Cleo on the way. I thought that would cure Venus of accompanying us on walks in the future. Once again, I was wrong.
Venus did turn her back on us when she saw Marlowe and me heading out for a few days after that, but then, about two weeks after her last walk with us, Venus decided to forgive and forget and follow us once more. I can’t say I was enthused by the idea of Venus coming along for our walk again, but if you’ve ever tried to stop a cat from doing whatever the cat wants to do, you’ll understand why Venus came with us.
We usually now stop halfway on each walk, and I carry her part of the way once more, and Venus complains a lot once more, and Venus is now part of our walking party, if a somewhat reluctant part. No amount of reminding her it’s her choice makes her any happier about the length of our walks.
Marlowe is very happy to have Venus accompany us. I’m thinking about making him a back carry pack big enough to fit a fat ex-feral cat. My only problem with this idea is Marlowe’s mid-walk swim. I doubt Venus would enjoy either a dip in the dam with Marlowe or a damp bag after said dip. I can see a lot of fat cat carrying in my future.
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