Under The Skin

                                                               Under The Skin

                                                                          *
 

                   Come, meet me in the dark with outstretched hands,
                   I would not know your colour or your kind;
                   And do not speak, in case my biased mind
                   Forms judgement long before it understands
                   The words you use.  Conceal from me the lands
                   You've travelled through, the culture that's entwined
                   In all your thoughts, the politics you find
                   Acceptable, the ground where your faith stands.
                   If I could come as nakedly as you,
                   Abandoning my way of life and creed,
                   Forgetting those ideas I'm closest to
                   And recognising what I really need;
                   Could we, for just a moment, see right through
                   Our diverse layers to our common seed? 

     

Not all bad . . .

The coronavirus has brought grief, fear and economic breakdown.  It has also given rise to a sense of global uncertainty and impotence.

Nonetheless, may I, for a moment, put forward the argument that the situation is not all bad

Take climate change.
The almost total absence of aircraft in our skies, and the marked reduction of vehicles on the roads, has dramatically reduced the carbon emissions we are sending into the atmosphere.  Whilst Covid-19 may not have stopped climate change, it has certainly slowed down its formerly rapid progress towards ecological breakdown.

Take self-isolation.
This may be, and is, frustrating and limiting . . . but it has also produced innumerable acts of generosity and kindness.
It has brought communities together, and it has forced a society, which formerly never even paused between actions, to sit and reflect.

Self-isolation has caused us all to look out of our windows and ponder on what we can see . . . it has given us time to think.

When going out into our gardens, thanks to the absence of aircraft and traffic, we notice the birdsong.
Each day thousands of people are now joining the Facebook page of 'Rewilding Britain'. 
Why?  Because, for the first time in their lives, they're eager to identify the individual birds by their song.

And then there are the unexpected benefits.
All the homeless of London have been taken off the streets and housed and cared for in a large hotel.
Over half a million people have generously volunteered to help the NHS . . . whose selfless, dedicated work has been an inspiration to us all.
The coronavirus has brought the world together in unity of purpose.
Whilst, on a personal level, an opera singer, who is self-isolating in my apartment block, comes on her balcony each afternoon to lighten our day with an operatic aria.

And did you know that, if you visit the Kew Gardens' website, you can now take a tour of the gardens online?
Or that, despite its cancellation, the Chelsea Flower Show is planning a virtual show in May?

We are pausing, we are reflecting, we are learning.  We are discovering how,  as rapacious caterpillars, we ravaged the earth . . . we are considering the best way forward for the future.

And what will we be like when, humbled and thankful, we finally emerge  from our cocoons?

Let's hope we'll be transformed into butterflies . . . altruistic butterflies, ready to embark on a new life on a changed planet.

A Purr-fect Spot

Hello, it's Chloe again . . . have you a moment to spare?

I've been thinking about what I said to you last week, and I realised that there was something I'd forgotten to add . . . something very important.  In fact, I feel quite ashamed of myself for not having mentioned it.
So let me get my paws on the computer and put things right.


When my Mum adds something to one of her letters I've noticed that she calls it a PS.
What does PS mean?  I'm not really sure.         Let's call it a Purr-fect Spot to make things clear.

You'll remember that I'm a PAT Cat who works for the Pets As Therapy Charity . . .  I gave you examples of all the different things I do, and the interesting places that I'm lucky to visit.

But, oh dear me, what I forgot to mention was how much everyone really appreciates these visits . . .  and what this means to me and my Mum.


Just look at this photo . . . do you see the smile on the face of my good friend, Ian, at the nursing home?

Aren't I a lucky cat to be able to make someone smile like that.

And remember how I was asked to go to the Phobia Clinic to see Elijah, the small boy who was scared of cats?

Well, as I told you before, on that first visit he finally came into the room and stroked me, and everyone was so, so surprised and happy.

What you don't know is what happened when my Mum took me for a second time . . . shiver my whiskers if he didn't let me sit on his lap!

And how delighted they all were . . .Elijah, his Mum and the Clinic's doctor.

Yes, it's true, I'm a lucky cat . . . and a grateful cat.
And, let's be fair, I mustn't forget my Mum.  She means well and always does her best.

But I expect you can guess what it is that really makes me purr.

You can?  That's right!

It's when my Mum brings me home after our visits and my boyfriend, Blue,  comes down the steps from where he lives and welcomes me back to the garden.

That's a Purr-fect Spot to be if ever there was one!

Cat In Demand!

Hello, it's Chloe here . . . phew, do I need a good rest!  Writing to you will give me an opportunity to relax.

I can never remember such a busy start to the year, my paws have hardly touched the ground,  In fact, I think my most useful Christmas present was my new diary.

What's been going on?  Let me tell you.

As you'll remember, I work for the Pets As Therapy charity . . . and a very good charity it is.  They phone my Mum to tell her who's in need of my services, and she then acts as my chauffeur and takes me where I'm needed in our car.

Well, I've been visiting the patients at our local nursing home for years, and they're always very excited to see me, but last month my Mum had a very different request.

Did you know that some people are afraid of cats?  Yes, I know, I found it hard to believe myself.  But it seems these people have what's called a 'cat phobia' and cats simply terrify them.  The doctor from the local Phobia Clinic was in need of help for a small boy named Elijah and, well, you know me, I'm always ready to be helpful.  So off my Mum and I went to meet Elijah.

When we got to the Clinic he wouldn't even come into the room, he just peered at me through a window, looking really scared.  I don't want to sound boastful, I'm not a boastful cat, but by the time we left he was actually patting me on the head and wanted to know if I could visit him at Christmas.  The Clinic is so pleased with my visit that it's booked me to go back twice this month . . . two more dates for my new diary.

Then, shiver my whiskers if there wasn't yet another call on my services . . . quite a different kind of request this time.  It seems that a local church has acquired a family of mice.  Speaking for myself, I can't see why the mice shouldn't be there.  After all, they're all part of God's creation.  But the vicar wanted me to walk around inside the church so that my scent would discourage these mice from staying.

I was perfectly happy to oblige, and, as you can see, had a very interesting time exploring the church.  Although I must say that I'm rather surprised the mice should have wanted to live there in the first place, it didn't feel very cosy to me.

So, there you have it. 

Can you see why I'm in need of a rest?

Believe you me, it's a demanding world if you're a co-operative cat . . . you human beings need such a lot of help. 

What a relief that, when each visit is over, I can come home, go into the garden, and share my thoughts with my good friend Blue.

Thank heaven for understanding cats!

My good friend Blue and me!