Just thought I'd update you on how things are going with the furry T800 now he's moved to Malta. Things were going brilliantly, albeit with some complexities. New job for me going great but Arnie seemed rather bored all day with me being at work. So, at the start of May as fate would have it, I was asked if I wouldn't mind fostering a little cute tabby and white female who has been thrown out by her owners as, it was claimed, she attacked the owner's boyfriend. They already had another cat and a dog so it wasn't that they were anti cat suddenly but somehow it was felt that this dear little cat, Mittens, was not fitting in and had to go. So they threw it out and the woman who raised her from an abandoned kitten found out, had her trapped and rescued and sought me out as a short term fosterer.
I took her on with the intention of rehoming her quickly if she and Arnie did not get on, otherwise she would be welcome to stay permanently. She arrived, one evening about 7 weeks ago. Immediately dived for cover under the sofa bed in the spare room and refused to come out, even for food or litter tray when left in the room alone until 24 hours or so later. Arnie was civil and welcoming the moment she arrived, as she was carried in the box and set down in the spare room where she was to be held separate from Arnie, he caught sight of her and she was miaowing in fear and confusion. Arnie simply wandered over to the carry box, put his nose up to the door, purred, brushed against the box then walked away. I think it was his way of saying "hello, welcome, don't worry, you're safe here".
The first night was ok, she was quiet and didn't mind being shut in the room. Second night she was crying to be let out for an hour then gave in and went to sleep. Third night she cried for nearly 2 hours and then because I and Arnie couldn't stand any more (he was by now sitting the other side of the door also crying because he was bothered by the sound of a kitty in distress) I opened the door slowly and allowed them to meet. She immediately hissed at him and avoided him but Arnie didn't react or hiss back. He looked at me puzzled but not really bothered by her. Mittens spent an hour or so wandering around the flat and then decided that she really wants to cuddle up with me in bed as I put the light out. She stayed under the duvet with me that night and refused to budge until the evening. During the night she was purring and treading most of the time, so she seemed happy enough.
As the weeks passed, it was clear that Arnie couldn't give a toss about her. He neither liked her nor hated her, but that was largely because any attempt he made to be friendly towards her was met hissing, growling and unsheathed claws from Mittens. Each time she went on the defensive Arnie would just go "brrrrupppp!!" and walk - not run - away from her. It was as though he realised she was trying to provoke a fight but he was not rising to it, he was being a gentleman and seeing that she was a troubled kitty so he decided to be nice.
He stopped being nice a few weeks ago however. It was like a switch just flicked in his head and he started chasing her around, trying to bite her and generally doing whatever he could to terrorise her. Not all the time though, most of the time he would leave her alone but whenever he saw she was taking my attention off of him he would go into T800 mode. He would let her use the litter tray no problems (I set up a tray for her to use but she decided from the start it's more fun to use Arnie's existing tray), he would sit next to his tray while she was in it, watching her, as though it was like a queue for the loo. Sometimes he would use it next but other times the moment she had finished and was covering it up, he would tap her on the rear and chase her out of the bathroom and under the bed.
So it was clear they were not getting on at all well, or rather, I think Arnie just saw Mittens as a fun thing to chase by now but Mittens was truly terrorised by it all. She remains under the bed or under my duvet all day, only coming out when she's hungry or needs the loo or late at night when seems to feel the need to throw caution to the wind and run around herself, excitedly playing with Arnie's toys (mostly when he's sleeping).
Meanwhile, my efforts to get Arnie used to the outdoors here were going well, he took the micky on a few occasions and wandered around patches of rough "brown" land between blocks here (Malta is weird like that, perfectly good land is left not built on while other bits of what little green belt there is are ripped up and have unsightly apartment blocks unsympathetically and badly built on them) but he was getting the idea, he'd lead me on a merry dance for an hour or so each evening until eventually allowing me to pick him up and bring him back inside. The chases he would do with me were like something from The Benny Hill show, he would run around in various directions only going fast enough to stay ahead of me so I couldn't pick him up, very clearly he saw this as a game as much as a process of staying out as long as possible. Not once though did he wander off too far, a couple of times he wandered into the rolling hillsides directly outside and I could hear him doing his "oh heck I'm lost now, where's my slave?!" miaow when I couldn't see him as he jumps in and out of the undergrowth but each time he did that, I'd go after him and stumble over rocky land to go get him.
Then, at the start of June, he jumps over the wall next to where I live, it's a bricked off patch of brown land full of bushes, brambles and bricks and goodness knows what else. I can't see him for about 30 mins but thanks to a Loc8tor on his collar and his tendency to "brruupp" and miaow to communicate where he is to me when he's out (plus his collar bell when he jumps or runs) I knew he was still there. Then suddenly I heard a "MIAAAOOWWWW!" and a metallic thunk followed by a more distressed miaow. It sounded like he'd got himself trapped in something metallic in there, so I did the only thing a cat crazy chap could do, I pushed some of the loose bricks at one end of the wall away and climbed over the wall to go rescue him.
Arnie is a black cat and when I got over he eventually came out of hiding from the bushes, he was a grey cat! Covered in white masonry dust, seeds, other bits of plant life and various other rubbish, but he was otherwise unharmed and he rolled around on the ground purring and miaowing and then shot off over the wall back into the street again.
I went to go after him of course and as I climbed back up, the breeze block I got my initial footing on, on the ground, tipped over, I fell backwards and cut the lower part of my left leg on it as I fell in a heap on the ground. Blood coming from the wound, Arnie stood on the wall looking back at me as if to say "what you doing down there, you nutjob? Come on, keep up!" and disappeared again into the street. I haul myself back up, eventually and make it over the wall. Arnie has wandered into the rolling countryside again and is enjoying himself among the bushes. 2 hours later he finally decides to let me get him and we go back indoors to clean him up and for me to attend to my wounds.
2 days later I'm at work and my leg has swollen up so much it looks like something from Aliens is growing in my leg and my foot is turning blue with serious bruising. 1 day later I go to the clinic and they say try some cream to reduce the swelling on top of other medication I got from a private Chemist GP a day earlier. Made no difference and boss insisted I take the medical advice to stay off work and rest my leg. 6 days after the accident I went back to the clinic, they referred me to the hospital A&E and I was admitted in the early hours on the Saturday with surgery expected to be done either later that day or Sunday. I had a massive haematoma in the leg, 5cm x 2.5cm x 1.5cm roughly and the reason my foot was having so much trouble was because it was cutting blood flow to the foot, I was warned that unless this was sorted quickly - by removing the haematoma - I could lose my foot or even the whole lower part of my leg.
Sunday evening I'm about to be taken down for surgery (it was a busy weekend and I was not seen as a priority for surgery) and I get a phone call from a friend who kindly stepped in to drop by and feed Arnie and Mittens for me. She sounds worried, as she opened the door - carefully - to go in, Arnie managed to trick her and ran out and now he's disappeared and they can't find him. The porter wasn't having any of this and told me to hang up, the theatre was waiting for me. I wake from surgery 4 hours later and once I'm back in the ward, call my friend. Arnie is still missing. Eventually my friend hears his collar jangling from under a car and then a miaow of "hello idiot, I'm here!" from him as she puts her phone on speakerphone and I call for him. He refuses attempts to be grabbed from under cars but 1 hour later decides he's had enough and it's time to come in for food and de-burring, again he's covered in seeds that need brushing out.
My friend, Fiona, had previously insisted Arnie was the best cat on the planet, absolutely no trouble at all and that I'm wrong about how much grief he can cause, because he is nothing but sweet and innocent and compliant to her. Now she's furious with the little ****!
I get released from hospital on the Monday (two weeks ago this Monday) and on this Monday coming, the stitches get removed. It's been painful and difficult but I'm on the mend, slowly. Though being off work has cost me dearly in terms of lost income but Arnie seems to be enjoying having his slave around all the time, even though he can't understand why I'm laying on the sofa with my leg up most of the time and why I'm no longer wanting to let him out and walk with him and what, he is wondering, is up with the slave and those metal poles he's hobbling around with and why does he put his leg in a black sack before having a shower. Yes cat, I know you don't understand. But there again, I don't understand why you made me think you were stuck in a metal thing in the first place!
He's a pain in the **** still then this cat but I love him dearly. He's been very sweet these past few days, maybe because he can see that Mittens is starting to love me as much as he does and he's worried I will keep her and get rid of him or maybe it's because he can see I've injured my leg (as he had somehow done when he found me a year ago) and he feels empathy towards me because of it? Who knows, but either way he's been a good friend these past few days, and less demanding than I expected, even if evenings are rather fraught with him fighting with Mittens...
Mittens however will be going to a new home this evening, my "adopted sister" (neither actually adopted or a sister but I'm like part of the family to her family, you see) as fallen in love with Mittens during recent visits to see how I'm coping and has decided that she hates the idea of Arnie constantly attacking her so she will provide her with the peaceful, cat free, quiet new home Mittens desperately needs. And Arnie will just have back to chasing and attacking me instead.. but not yet, I can just about walk now, never mind run!
Here's a video from this morning showing the T800-Arnie unit and Mittens as they await feeding...
https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=10 ... nref=story" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;
Hopefully I will be able to return to work on Tuesday... I hope so, I need the money.. I'll be eating cat food myself soon.. HiLife pie anyone, no?!
Party on cat people, all the best from Malta!
Andrew, Arnie (and Mittens... off to her new home shortly!)
one word spings to mind..mad !!!! 
