Posted in Dreams and Nightmares, Life and Family, My Cats

A Tale of Two Kittens (or the Duvet that Came into its Own)

Last night I dreamed I had been reminded (to my surprise) that I used to have two cats, but for some reason or another had given them to someone else. Couldn’t afford to keep them at the time… that was pure dreaming, as these cats did not exist in my life!

In the dream I was shown pictures and reminded how I had called one of them after Arthur Wendell, and everybody called him Art for short.

I struggled awake, saying “I can’t tell the blog about that; I can’t give the real names of my pets,” then woke up fully and realized I haven’t called a cat that anyway. I don’t know who Arthur Wendell is. It was in my mind that he was a historian, but I’ve not been reading or researching anything by anyone with that name.

It’s odd what falls out of the mind when you let it run around by itself. I know there used to be a white cat in a catfood commercial called Arthur.

I forgot all about the dream till my sister sent an email saying she had been trundling around today much as usual, then someone got in touch with her and said “hello, do you remember these two kittens you homed with me? I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked, but I thought you might like an update.” And sent some photos.

My sister was fascinated, and said she hadn’t thought about them in a while. I looked at the photos and said one of them had a particularly distinctive face.
“I don’t recognize that one at all,” she said.
“Are they right about him being one of yours? Are they sure a goblin didn’t snatch the real kitten and leave a changling?”
“I wondered. Perhaps I shouldn’t have called him Gobbolino,” she said. (His name was changed by the owners – when I made that remark, I didn’t even know what his name used to be!)

Late at night Mum went to bed, then came upstairs grumbling that some cat had peed on her bed and completely messed up her duvet. She got a blanket out of the cupboard and was about to take that downstairs when I reminded her there was a spare duvet draped on the sofa… it was clean and washed, and all she really needed to do was change the cover.

This is one of those rather distracting moments… you know that it’s a good thing to ‘travel light’ so to speak, and rather than hoard stuff, you should get used to discarding (or rehoming!) the things you do not personally need. Storing things up ‘just in case’ is supposed to be a no-no.

Much of the time that makes sense. When you keep all the things you might use, and then go looking for something when it finally might be useful, you can never find it because of all the other things you’ve kept just in case they’ll be useful.

After a long, hard struggle, you’re just getting used to this idea of a more ascetic life and are steeling yourself to discard more things… then life throws a spanner into the works, in the form of doubt. The duvet on the sofa was a spare one from my house that we didn’t have room for. There was no room left in any of the cupboards, or in the loft, or in my bedroom. I couldn’t bring myself to chuck it out, though, and it wasn’t quite new enough for a charity shop, so I put an old duvet cover on it (one I had been meaning to throw out of course, but was quite fond of because it went to university with me), and draped the whole lot over my sofa. To keep it clean and comfortable, and so I can crawl under it and watch the TV if it’s one of those days. Why not?

Don’t you think now that it’s a good thing I didn’t throw it out?

Well, having a spare duvet was probably one of our better ideas. The real bad idea is keeping all the stuff that shoved the spare duvet out of the wardrobe in the first place… but I don’t want to think about that too much. It just proves my priorities are possibly in the wrong place, and that’s even more depressing than being labelled a hoarder.



I live in the UK with two cats -- Samson and Delilah.

4 thoughts on “A Tale of Two Kittens (or the Duvet that Came into its Own)

  1. Ah, but to have one’s small comforts around surely can’t be ‘hoarding’? And very prescient of you to know that there would be such a helpful use to be made of it one day. (That’s what I think of the things I’ve kept; it’s all those OTHER things that I just can’t get the energy to go through that need to go elsewhere that weigh me down.)

    And, hey, Bad Kitty! No pee on bed!

  2. It’s not the kittens doing that, touch wood… more likely to be an ageing cat who was caught short. My money’s on Grumble, but I could be wrong. There’s a phantom peeer somewhere… (Everybody looks around suspiciously).

  3. From what I’ve read you are far from being a hoarder – you mention giving things to people or shops often on your blog.

    We bought a house from family who *were* hoarders…they have 2 storage lockers of stuff they can’t bear to part with from the house and left us with enough things in the house that we filled a 17 foot hauling truck with over a tonne of thigns they couldn’t bear to throw out but didn’t want anf felt we might use…after 2 years out it went.
    It was a lesson to me to try and use what I keep and give away what I don’t need. I don’t think it’s wrong to keep a few things for when you need them.

    And you can *never* have too many duvets…

  4. We’re definitely better than we were, but we used to be hoarders without realizing it. If I was given something, it was kept. Every birthday and Christmas we were given more. Something had to give way…

    Nowadays I’m much less inclined to buy rubbish; if something tempts me, I imagine myself taking it home, playing with it for five minutes, and then leaving it lying around getting in everybody’s way. Seems easier just to leave it in the shop. 🙂

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