Prickles crunch underfoot. Bees loop mad insect designs around scrubby daisy weed flowers. Pleasant childhood memories dance in my frontal lobe, daisy flowers are magic.

Sparrow gangs sketch races on open grass. Crumbs left are gobbled as swooping, twittering arguements ensue. A small fledging sits, feathers askew. Yellow tunnel pleading mouth squawking a hunger story until an adult brings food. My bell jingling approach causes the flock to move en masse to the nearest treetops.

I pass a fence. Its height is forboding, a crack near the gate. A nose leathery and glistening, snuffles to greet. Husky WOOF warning. I grin. No gatekeeper better than a large hairy wolf dog.

Jasmine. Flower samples fragrant, gorgeous and perfectly shaped. Plucking one is tricksie, a jagged stem end prize. Behind my ear where the smell is heavenly, matching my mood.

On a bench,  the water sparkles in the harbour distant. A small sound announces the landing of a Waxeye. Delicate eye markings enchant my visual tastebuds. Rounded small body bounces on his sprig of a shrub. Eyes beadily examine me, head moving quicker than blinking. He begins an enchanting trill song. A car toot breaks the spell. Waxeye flits off to another branch, I am forgotten for nectar flowers.

City proper. Benches for sitting and benches for looking. I scuff the earth with my shoe. A pigeon approaches, bobbing, purposeful in his own importance. He sneaks up on my blind spot.  My scuffed spot is analysed, but no food in sight. The pigeon huffily wanders, geometric circles away. Checking left, right, left for prospective eats.

Back into my suburb. Typically Wellingtonian, old villa houses crowd together like a colourful flock of parrots. A steep hill rises protectively behind them. Colours and styles clash like bad 80’s fashion. Gardens mingle like neighbours, unkempt scramble meeting manicured rose bushes. My street. Snails trek slowly along a window ledge. Silvery stories left behind to speak of journeys had, plants to find. I walk, trailing my fingers on concrete walls.

A Starling riding a telephone pole sings of alpha male goodness. Colours of Spring, magnificently peacock. He preens, sings louder. Green spotted, purple hued black, he proclaims his might in long notes of love.

His song carries my feet and ears home. The road angles upwards. Footpath alongside rickety fences and cars parked, coupons displayed. My feet enthusiastic, my bag heavier with time.

Blue trimmed house, and an unkempt garden. I peer in front windows. Mishmashed face cats mew exhuberantly, silent behind sparkling glass. My keys rattle in the lock. The thud of four footed creatures announces my return.

Home, where the birds aren’t.

Her Door creaks open, then SLAM!

Loud and painful, back against its jamb.  Thudding treacherous heart pounds heavy, stone-like. Her ears ring a bass deep hum, lips part in disbelief. A blackness swarms close, entering insidiously. Steals warmth, feeling, sounds. The girls soul inner shape shrivels. Autumn leaf brown, a dried carcass husk. Extremities are numb, conversation sounds crackle, daily tasks flitting by like traffic, unregistered.

She learns to leave her heart, tied like a dog, in a Drawer. Her glistening eyes sharpen their creases daily, their reflections in matching photo frames. Sorrow brims and combines with thrumming feelings to make numbness. Restless partners to sadness, defeat. Mind, chaotic turmoil. Endless questions un-voiced, already answered by daylight, repeat infinite in moonlight.

Ahh but for repetitive business.  Her smiles start to break through. Facades of stability become houses of truth. Tendrils of green emerge in her bubbling laughter, writing creative processes. Fingers bustle like hens in a dooryard, pen moves on paper, faster with purpose.

The girls heart opens, stretches out tiny arm-like fronds. Compiled of pulsing, glowing love. Waiting. Cat-like. Patient.

for Spring.

Down a slanted, potholed street, the Fangy Bunny scuffs through drifts of Saturday night detritus. Major chain fast food wrappers abound. Shiny red, bold shouting papers grasping at her shoes like pleading souls in purgatory.  Beer bottles perch on fencepost stumps like crows at a hanging. Half empty, half full of soggy ashy corpses, bottlecap eyes glinting in the morning sun. Balanced on walls and posted in letterboxes. Mailed on Saturday evenings as if careful placement excuses flagrant disregard.

She spies forlorn items of clothing lying in wait on unkempt grass verges. Wet bedraggled creatures dropped by mistake or discarded as too heavy by alcohol soaked owners. Soggy, muddy plastic scraps caught high in branches of trees. Calling to unseen beings in a slapping, alien language. Slap tap skippedy, her feet speak in answer. Rubbish muck crawling, disgraced and forgotten into gutters. Collecting leaves, twigs and fizzy drink cans in a clinging embrace. Grasping small, dead animal bodies alongside plastic remains.

Fangy traipses past human bodies found in various styles of conciousness. Curled, folded tightly like daylit sprung hedghogs into doorstoops. Trails of spittle leading from mouths open slackjawed to unforgiving pavement pillows. She finds them visual serenity in drunken concrete hugging states. Snoring like brachycephalic dogs or prone and silent like mortuary residents.

Her steps a jingling slide into footpaths coated with wind-dropped flower heads. Brown and flattened like trodden on dog faecal matter. Natures beauty stretched like guts from one power pole to another. Matched in artistic talent by fresh scribbles on property nearby. Her eyes devour cheap vivid marker colours running rampantly in meaningless patterns. Car wiper blades outsprung like childrens arms for presents. Scatterings of glass from ruined shop front windows, sparkle in morning sun rays.

A small girl bunny hybrid wanders. Positive spins woven of  interestingly messy, inner city streets.

Can a small chittering Cavy live with a Rabbit happily?

Firstly, the new abode. Your indoor cage or hutch needs to be large enough for both animals to have their own territory, a space alone as well as having plenty of “zooming up and down” room. Provide a small tunnel or igloo for your Guinea Pig to feel safe alone in and ideally, a shelf that your Rabbit can jump up onto to spend time away from his or her squeaking little buddy. Then yes, you can more than happily accomodate a Guinea Pig and a Rabbit together.

I have personally found that a Guinea Pig seems to be less threatened by a Rabbit friend than perhaps another Guinea Pig. They will often relax out in the open more  – almost as if they know that  the bigger, bolshier Rabbit will charge off any intruders. I have seen Guinea Pigs co-habitating with Rabbits who often sleep on their side with one eye open, like a bunny does. Rabbits can spend hours happily grooming their small cavy friend and vice versa. It does not seem to matter which sex of Guinea Pig you put with which sex of Rabbit either, but please bear in mind that male small animals seem to require a larger territory than female small animals.

Introductions must be made slowly and without pressure, preferably in a neutral space outside the cage/hutch. It is a good idea to allow a couple of hours where you can keep a close eye on both animals and HAVE A BACK UP PLAN. If your two animals are not enjoying each others company ie showing any signs of violence, bullying, ear biting, stamping or charging and chattering angrily – then you must be prepared to re-home one of them into a separate cage. Do not try to introduce them later hoping it will work itself out.  If these animals do not like each other at the first introduction then unfortunately it will probably never work as a shared cage scenario. It will only escalate into serious fighting where one or both gets badly injured.

If your pets do seem to be happy, comfortable and relatively relaxed in the neutral territory after at least an hour,  prepare their new abode by doing a full clean of their cage/hutch. Clean it completely, change  any runs/tunnels around, supply fresh hay/bedding, and if possible, move the water and food to ‘new’ unfamiliar areas. Pop the new pet in first to scout the place out alone for approximately twenty minutes.

Once this chap seems relatively secure and settled, put his new buddy in with him and observe.

If  life on the range all seems Disney and Chill City after an hour, you can probably relax and know you have just introduced two new, firm friends. Well done!

Both Rabbits and Guinea Pigs can eat the same pellet food, hay and vegetables. Speaking of greens, remember that Guinea pigs must have veggies at least twice a week as they cannot manufacture Vitamin C  (Rabbits can) Your wee cavy friend will quickly get very ill with Vitamin C deficiency without these vegetable superfoods. Carrots, apples, parsley, fresh corn, milk thistle, dandelion, grass and fruit tree branches are all choice treats to a squeaker and your Rabbit will love sharing a carrot with his small buddy on the other end.

I have worked in a Vet environment for the last 9.5 years and have learned the things I know from experience more than following strict guidelines. Researching a prospective pet as much as you are able to, BEFORE getting the creature is highly recommended  but sometimes using common sense and carefully trying new things can also lead to a positive, joyful relationship with your new friend(s)

Time + Patience (often) = Firm Friends!

Travelling is being in a place I am actually lost in. Being swamped by jet lag and yet still thrilled to be alive. Seeing the shapes and speeds of different people. Knowing the smiles still translate. Trying my smile in a different country and having it work. Walking down any street/lane or pathway and looking at things that the people that live there never notice.

Travelling is sweating in breathlessly hot, dry climates. Wishing I had a hat, freezing yet snug inside my travellers clothes in snow up to my thighs. Camera an extension of my wrist and sunglasses a growth on my head. Shoes that are worn in still reeking of walking and overuse.

Travelling is being enveloped wonderfully by families I had only pictured. Partaking of friends reunions, flurries of names I may not remember. Constantly translating accents and words in my head. The sharing of meaningful times/holidays and celebrations.

Travelling is photographing the big, the small and the colourful. Collecting momentos carefully and saving them to card or internet site. The parks, the squares, the skinny alleyed roads, discovering the age of the  things that I see. Sending postcards back home to shout of my discoveries and jog my memory upon my return.

Travelling is shuttling to airports. Learning to ring ahead to book meals and seats, to ensure I have a flight. Taxis, buses, trams and boats. Taking me places I couldn’t previously imagine, totally devour when I’m there. Crowds of pushing people lining up quietly in organised queues. Zoos, Museums, shops, stores, markets and wide open spaces.

Travelling is food I couldn’t wait to try in a foreign land. Meals that are served in different ways. Herbs I had never tasted before and maybe wish I hadn’t tried. Tasting drinks, flavours, ingredients and fruit that are now authentic. Realising they are better than I had imagined. Appreciating the kindness of people who didn’t know me at all. Sharing their food, opening their wine and putting my wobbly shape to sleep in crispy clean bedding.

Travelling is coming back home with no money but a case full of gifts. A book full of new friends and a mind full of dreams. Plans to go back, go on, go further afield are fresh in my heart. I  firmly decide to save, to barter, to bargain and plan…

Until I can travel all over again.

“It isn’t natural“

“They need to be outside, playing in the grass, catching birds and hunting mice”

“They’ll get bored and ruin your house”

The choice to have cats that predominantly reside indoors is an easy one. Once you have decided firmly to restrict your cats unsupervised outside access the rest is as easy as your imagination and finances will allow.

Cats do very well as mostly inside pets. No fleas or worms to speak of, no cat fight abscesses and certainly no danger from speeding cars.  It seems to me that very few cat owners seem to be aware that FIV (feline aids) is fairly rampant, especially amongst the un-neutered, unowned, unwanted cats of our world. Sadly these stray fellows need to fight viciously for territory and food – this is where they may come into contact with YOUR pet and pass the virus through saliva or sexual fluids. Vaccinations for FIV are available, yes –  but these are expensive and it is arguable that they work effectively, it IS a virus after all.

Instead, why not consider keeping your beloved pet as a permanent inside dweller? Or if you have the room, construct a ‘cat run’ to keep their wandering in the confines of your back garden/courtyard. Many owners have merely modified large bird aviaries to make a safe enclosure and some of the fencing options available are rather ingenious. Large PVC pipes cut in half and nailed to the top of the fence-line will stop a jumping cat, as will a carefully installed 6F bamboo ‘screen’.

It is not enough to merely shut them inside safely or restrict their outside movements. Their environment needs careful planning  and they need interesting things to do. A cat who cannot play (small, light toys) hunt (moving toys, cardboard boxes) sleep (beds, climbing platforms, boxes) mark territory (scratching posts, tree trunks)  toilet in peace (quiet location or hooded litter pan) and eat without interruption is potentially a cat who will develop major behavioural issues. I still believe in the basics – yearly vaccinations, deworming, microchipping and always desexing my pets, I just no longer believe they need to be out roaming the neighbourhood to have a fulfilling, long life.

Inside, occupy their curiosity and natural behaviours with things like large climbing trees or scratching posts. These can be kitted out with platforms at human patting height, tunnels and angled scratching bits and are an excellent idea. Such inventions as these save your furniture, your carpet and tickle your cats fancy with hanging toys and hiding holes. Furry mice, yes those simple grey and white fur numbers, are inevitably any cats favourite toy and you can never have too many dangling, feathery strands about the place. These catch any small breeze or air current and help to appease a cats natural hunting instinct.

Growing some catnip grass, or even just a pot of ordinary grass will benefit your furry companion too. They like the roughage and it aids their digestion as well as being an enjoyable treat. When you are home with them, blowing bubbles into a breeze, running up and down hallways with a feather dangler dangling and using a laser pointer are only three ideas of many that you can do to play with your cat(s)

There are so many wonderfully designed toys and treat dispensers for cats on the market that we as the new breed of  ‘inside cat advocates’ are utterly spoilt for choice.

Some relevant sites you may find interesting:

http://www.fabcats.org,  http://www.infopet.co.uk,  http://www.celiahaddon.co.uk,  http://www.cat-world.com.au

]]> https://fangybunny.wordpress.com/2010/03/15/gnashy-teeth-and-flailing-claws/feed/ 5 Fangy claw stretch I'm bored Cat scratching fun bamboo-fencing plywood scratcher cat scratch fever! catnip grass bubbles for interactive, inexpensive fun panic mouse - a cat toy that doesn't need YOU there Cardboard cat fort https://fangybunny.wordpress.com/2009/10/28/a-little-bit-camp/ https://fangybunny.wordpress.com/2009/10/28/a-little-bit-camp/#comments Tue, 27 Oct 2009 20:17:05 +0000 http://fangybunny.wordpress.com/?p=368 What could be better than being woken early in the morning by the sun streaming into a steamy tent? The sound of native birds chirping, serenading, or in Australia, screeching their joy at a new day?

There were many things out there to see, admire and file away in my memory.

In every country it would seem Mother Nature presents these wonders in different colour scapes, sometimes more subtle forms. More used to the green, lushness of ferny, water filled New Zealand, it took me a wee bit of time to appreciate the different shadings of green found in Australia. It is a place grown more muddy green than verdant. Every living tree form has struggled hard against the lack of water and the relentless sun. I was awed by the power play between the weather and the growing things.

Nature seems to struggle more obviously in this landscape. From Spring onwards, the ever present threat of bushfire looms very real in the background of every day. The people that live here, the creatures that dwell in this environment seem to have adapted to this with awesome positivity, breaking each week down to day to day pleasures.

I felt small in my petty, previous judgement that the scenery was boringly brown and red.

Mountains to wander. Walking trails labelled with sandy red stone dust. Trees beseeching the sky. Blackened bushfire burnt limbs frame a desolate beauty unique.

This may be the country I know as the Dead Heart but I have come to realise it is also a country that lives hard. There is an appreciation for new life every day here. A tendril of growth on an otherwise shrivelled tree, a sprig of blue lily peeping from a dry and deadened tussock,  the joy of the nectar supping birds on freshly opened Spring time buds.

Thank you Grampians Paradise, I loved your three day escape route.

Flame Boy was a beautiful Christmas present to a Hedge Monkey boy. I had been enchanted by Siamese Fighting Fish since I started at Pets Wonderland and had succumbed after a mere 8 days. 

It isn’t cruel to have them in a fashionably small, Zen patterned tank I thought.

We need some life in the swanky apartment I considered.

If I get a bigger tank it will mean committing more time and effort in a place where we are merely transients, I argued with myself.

Ahhh but it was only a matter of days before we had discussed this issue firmly, fastly and then decided. A new and much larger home was required, and now. Always the impatient one I whisked to work and came home lugging a pretty, rounded glass front tank with Flame Boys name stamped all over it.

I set it up with live plants, a Buddha to grin widely, some shiny flat stones and a green bamboo bridge. Warm water, the relevant drops of chemical designed to better his water and cycle his poo…and then, Flame was released.

He swam in a panic stricken state to the bottom and hid under his bridge. We sat and looked. We waved and smiled encouragingly at his worried looking expression. We watched and wondered and worried. Then slowly and carefully he emerged and plumped his fins just so. An offering of blood worms was accepted and our Cambodian fighter friend was off and exploring. He never looked back.

Splendid Rex our current Fighter, simply adores having a mass of Ambulia plant to rest in. The feathery ends float on the surface of his tank and we smile happily to watch him squiggle into the middle of this nest to sleep at night. Who could want for a down filled duvet when you can have such a buoyantly soft resting place?

He zooms out of this bed as soon as one of us emerges into the living room. Right to the front of the tank, madly waving his front fins in an exuberant greeting. A small, brilliantly blue with trims of red fish, his energy is boundless.

I am often met with the disparaging comment at work “Siamese Fighters are boring”. I argue every time that they are merely bored.

If you insist on placing a living creature in an aesthetically pleasing yet tiny environment, how can it be any other way?

Give these gorgeous creatures the room to swim and explore, enrich their homes with living plant and hiding places and you will have a Fighter who is filled with interest. Interest in his home, his surroundings and his owners.

Thank you Flame Boy, Neraldi and Splendid Rex. You have taught me much about the enthrallment of Fighter keeping.

Guinea Pigs love to be loved.

They seem to enjoy both the inside glamour of a roomy cage with an igloo placed just so for spying, or the grassy freedom of an outdoor hutch.

I hugely enjoy having Pinny Gigs inside the home. I can hear their busy chattering as they go about the important business of demolishing beloved greens or simply re-arranging their bedding to better snuggle into. They are more open to the human contact when I want a cuddle and it allows them to watch me when they think I am not looking. This is the Freeze Game. (refer previous blog Pinny Gig Loving for details) It is also very difficult to forget to spend time with squeaking, purring friends when I am greeted with excited “weeet” noises every time the sun shines into the room or they smell veggies a-coming!

For ease of cleaning and to keep small feet and bottoms fresh, I line their cage (big enough for sprinting, side skipping and climbing on houses) with a thick layer of newspaper. I then add liberal amounts of shredded paper and daily give them a generous handful of hay for serious munching and the necessary wearing down of constantly growing molars. The whole lot can be simply rolled up and put on the garden (vegetarian animals make for great plant growth) or on the compost, worm farm or just in the rubbish for apartment dwellers such as I. Meanwhile the piggies can fossick around the apartment or spend time relaxing in a willing humans lap. A fine way to make a job enjoyable!

For outside Guinea Pigs the theory of the bedding is the same. Fill the house part of the hutch in the same way  as for an inside cage and if you are very lucky your Pinny Gigs will toilet outside on the lawn. This means you only change the bedding once a week instead of every two to three days. I believe it is a great idea to make the house part smaller and warmer in Winter by adding an igloo or cardboard box and stuffing it tightly with hay or straw. This way your Cavy friends keep snug and chipper in the colder months. In windy areas a clear tarpaulin over the windswept side of the hutch will also be appreciated by your ear waggling friends.

For any country that has temperatures reaching 30 degrees or over it is vital to consider either a permanent indoor cage or plan to move your Guinea Pigs in every morning that the temperatures will rise. The air is just too hot and even with ice water and cooling greens they are very likely to die of the heat. It can be as simple as popping them into the empty laundry tub or a basic cardboard box for the day with water and food. They will not overly miss the running room and will be happily alive to meet you on your return home for the day.

Remember to regularly check your Guinea Pigs teeth for overgrowth. Offer them fruit tree branches, bark and all and this will help wear their teeth down naturally. They love peeking out from beneath the leaves at you and then chewing the trees down to nothing but twigs.  I also recommend monthly spraying with a Mite and Lice spray to prevent some pesky little travellers causing your friends to itch like mad.

For me there is nothing better, even with the extra cleaning and the midnight water bottle clicking, than having Guinea Pigs inside the home. The sounds of happy piggies rustling through paper and crunching on parsley sure can’t be beat.