About Felines and Fiction

An ardent cat lover and amateur creative writer from Scotland.

Cat Pen Memories

17 November 2013
Cat pens update: a cold day but all warm in their heated cabins! Pearl and Jade are the two loveliest black kittens ever, little purr machines who just want a cuddle! Hamish getting better (recovering from cat flu), he is a handsome tabby giant. Maggie so so affectionate but brother Max just hides in the scratching post box. Princess and Bumble more and more confident, while Libby is as desperate for her turn in the corridor as ever. Felix (pictured) all cosy curled up in bed.


Remembering WW1 Felines

Today we are remembering World War One, and this blog would like to give out a shout to all the cats who (also) nobly lost their lives for the war effort.

In the trenches, an estimated 500,000 cats were used for rodent control but also became mascots and a source of comfort to the soldiers. Cats were also used for rodent control on ships.

Read more here

In remembrance to the brave feline fighters, and to the companionship they gifted to our brave soldiers.

Halloween Black Cat

By Rachel H Grant

Sean fingered his old teddy, its stuffing enfolding his fingers, beyond repair but not beyond love. He looked out the window at the cold Halloween night.

A shadow accosted his eyes, forming in to a cat. Its bright yellow eyes looked at him through the window, as it began to mieaw.

Curious, he opened the window. The cat jumped up, purring. “Come with me, there is something to show you.”

The cat had not spoken out loud, but the words formed – perfectly – in his head.

In Sean’s seven years, he had never known a cat to speak with him. He smiled. This could be a new friend.

Hastily, he threw on his jacket and then leapt out the window. The cat ran ahead of him, looking behind to ensure he followed. They crossed the High Street then traversed a small lane which led to a wood. Sean hesitated. Should he really enter a wood at night? But with the cat, he felt somehow safe.

Safer than going trick and treating, with the school bullies at large.

They wound their way through the trees, until they were on the other side. A standing stone circle glowed in the light of a fire. An old lady in a black cape tended the flames.

The cat looked at him. “This is the village crazy cat lady. Every village has one.”

“Have a seat,” the woman said to him. “I see that the cats have chosen you. You must be very special indeed.”

Nervously, Sean sat on the grass. A dozen or more black cats were sitting around the fire. He didn’t know there were this many black cats in the village.

“We are here to work with black cat magic,” said the woman.

Sean looked at her, alarmed. “Are you a witch?”

She laughed. “Make a wish! Breathe it in to the flames before you.”

Sean closed his eyes. He wished that Neville would stop bullying him. As he opened his eyes, he could see black cat shapes in the smoke above the fire.

He began to feel sleepy, the heat bathing his brain with blessings. Or that’s what it felt like. Perhaps this night would never end, no school tomorrow, no school ever again.

The black cat was nudging him. “Time to go home to bed,” she murmured wordlessly in to his eyes.

The woman laughed again. He wondered whether she were mad. “I will walk you home after I have smothered the fire. It is Halloween after all. Not a night for young children to be wandering around with only a cat to protect them! Even if they are magical.”

The next morning he wondered whether it had all been a dream. His teddy lay on the floor at the foot of his bed. He picked him up and smiled. The dream had been good, but it was time to wake up.

That day, Neville came up to him in the playground. “I’m sorry I’ve been hard on you. Let’s start again. Friends?”

Sean swallowed his pride and beamed. “Yes, yes!”

He ran home happy that afternoon. A black cat crossed his path, then was gone.

When he reached home, his mother was smiling. “Surprise!” She was holding a box. Inside there was a small black kitten.

“You’ve been asking for a pet for a while, so…”

But he heard no more. Gently he picked up the kitten, and softly said, “Teddy.”

The kitten meowed in return. A fire lit in his heart, a bonfire that could never be extinguished.

He looked in to the kitten’s eyes, and saw only magic.


Feline Frolics at the Cat Pens

25 August 2013
Cat pens update: Mia desperate to escape!! New cat ginger tom Marty is a lovely soul, very affectionate and settling in to life at the pens. Poppy and Maisie, two tortie and white girls, are adorable. Molly is a refined dainty lady, a real beauty. Trixie enjoying an adventure in the cat tunnels as usual! Finally poor Milo in solitary confinement (ie not allowed out to the wider run to play) due to his gastro-intestinal upset which is contagious, his tablets ran out yesterday hopefully they’ve done the trick!

Cat Pen Playtime

11 August 2013
Cat pens – beautiful Ali is gone! In her place two gorgeous tabby and white 18 month olds. Mia full of mischief – this one needs a large garden to play in!! Bella graceful and elegant as ever, she is cat poetry in a body! Milo enjoying playing, but not as much as our Trixie! Finally Maisie as sweet and affectionate as usual (pictured).


Rose Dreams

By Rachel H Grant

Rose the cat slumbered, caught in a deep spell from which nothing could wake her. Inside her soul, feline magic unmelted.


Her sleeping spirit soared through the night. It knew where to go. Somewhere, a mother cat gave birth to kittens. She needed a soul nurse to help.

So Rose’s gentle spirit covered the queen in rose quartz comfort. The mother purred as she gave birth, pain banished in a rose quartz mystery.

Rose woke up. In the kitten bed a piece of rose quartz remained, a slice of the cake of rose quartz magic. Rose purred softly, her dreams a delicious memory, a cat treat for the brain. Exhausted from her nocturnal adventures, she knew nonetheless that there would be more, and soon.

It became a local myth. Many claimed to have seen her, a brown and white ghost cat at a kitten birth, leaving a rose quartz crystal behind.

A trend commenced. Feline owners began to buy rose quartz for their pet’s bed. Crystals were suddenly fashionable. Cats throughout the area enjoyed the soft energies of rose quartz, dreaming sweet fantasies and purring with untold pleasure.


Rose’s owners bought her a rose quartz. As she slept the rose quartz inside her was amplified tenfold. She slept deeply as her soul heard the cries of a tabby mother: tackling terror, understanding a quickly evaporating drop in her head. The tabby comprehended only confusion.

Rose purred invisibly beside her. As the kittens emerged, four perfect tabbies, a piece of rose quartz materialised in the bed. Rose retreated, as more cries reached her sleeping ears. It was going to be a long night.

Then one day, it all stopped. Rose’s dreams skipped past undisturbed. She turned over in bed, missing something that she had already forgotten.

In another room, in another town, a little boy jumped up and down in delight, then stood still as he was handed the new ginger kitten. “Rose! I will call her Rose!” he cried.

The kitten became his best friend. But little Rose had a secret. At night, she soul travelled to cats in need. Rose meowed piteously. Her secret burned hot inside. But just for today, she would be young, chasing fun all round the bedroom. Just for today, she would be a normal kitten. For tomorrow would soon come.

An older Rose climbed in to her bed several miles away, undreamt adventures awaiting. And just for today, nothing would disturb her. And all her tomorrows, she would now be free.

When she woke next morning, a new rose quartz crystal lay next to her. It was a kind of goodbye. Or a hello. Freedom licked her with its rough tongue. It was time to live, it was time to purr. But above all, it was time for breakfast. Feline priorities were never wrong. She ate her food hungrily, memories floating away on the whiskers of yesterday. Contentment claimed her rose quartz soul.