Pippy was a Welsh cat, Pippy was a thief.

Pippy was a thief

There is a terribly politically incorrect rhyme from my childhood that goes, “Taffy was a Welshman, Taffy was a thief”. As you can imagine, it casts disparagement onto people of Welsh origin (from the country of Wales in the UK, for those of you who suffered American geography classes. ๐Ÿ™‚ ) Teddy and I got married in Chester, England and moved to a small town in Wales where we bought our first house. To start with, we had a lovely little hamster. I love all animals and desperately wanted a cat but Teddy was allergic (and still is, 6 cats later). Despite that, Teddy also wanted a cat. I saw an advert for a tabby kitten in our little town in Wales and we went to view. The tiger kitten had gone and all that was left was this filthy, skinny black and white kitten. My nose probably wrinkled but I saw Teddy in a haze of love. In his head, this scraggy kitten was the most beautiful black and white princess covered in fairy dust (it was just dirt). Unbelievably, he was right – she turned into the most exquisite black and white princess as you can see above.

We moved with her, back to the north of Scotland, and she was a holy terror. Trouble from the minute we owned her but we loved her anyway. She was authentically Welsh and she was most definitely a thief so that’s were the rhyme comes in. One of the many houses we lived in was a former bank in a tiny village in Scotland. The kitchen was originally the vault and the window sill was about 3 foot in depth. We had only been married a few years and had very little money (we are doing that in reverse now). The fish van had come around and I bought one fillet of haddock for Teddy. I had frozen it and decided to place it on the kitchen window sill to defrost.

Towards dinner time I went to bread and prepare the haddock fillet only to discover that Pippy had managed to eat the top half. It still looked like a fillet but a bit thinner than normal. I looked at it aghast and wondered what to do. There was nothing else for Teddy’s dinner. Eventually, I decided to wash it, cover it in breadcrumbs and hope that he didn’t notice. He ate it with great enjoyment and then I burst out laughing. “Didn’t you notice that it was a very slim fish?”. He looked appalled at first and then laughed too. I had already shouted at Pippy, who gave not a whit, and it was neither the first or last theft that the felon committed.

Advertisements

40 thoughts on “Pippy was a Welsh cat, Pippy was a thief.

  1. Oh she was so pretty and clearly rather witty and this horrendous ditty doesn’t rhyme with fish so I will stop and just tell you that the image of Teddy’s face (of course I don’t actually know what Teddy’s face is so I am using artistic licence and imagining George Clooney) twisting in horror when you revealed the fate of his supper is akin to Shirley Valentine and the ‘chips and egg’ incident with the dog. Loved this. It’s made my rather dull evening sing ๐Ÿ™‚

    Liked by 3 people

    • Teddy is handsome but not quite George Clooney, LOL! He looks a bit like Indiana Jones on field trips. To be truthful, I have writer’s block and am still ‘under the weather’ – a phrase that means everything and nothing. So out came one of my many funny animal tales. Bon Voyage, mon ami.

      Liked by 2 people

      • Indie on a field trip sounds pretty good to me! Ah, the cursรจd writers block. It’s such a pain and I rather think it may be endemic at the moment – I’ve got a dose myself. However hard I try inspiration is evading or avoiding me. Maybe its the time of year- sap rising, moon’s phase or just the blinking clocks changing. I am not under the weather though so I send you healing love for speedy return to glory.

        Liked by 2 people

      • Thank you so much, Osyth. In my case it just circumstances. The oil disaster is indeterminate which is difficult for a specialized geologist. One positive thing will probably prop me back up. Your trip to La France will revive your artistic juices. My French friend made me laugh this week. She named her child Giselle in the hope that even Texans would understand that until a doctor’s receptionist shouted out for Gizzle. Ah, how we laughed.

        Liked by 2 people

      • Gizzle! That is hilarious …. my third daughter is called Saskia. We had a rather strange postmistress in the village when the girls were small. The first time I took the my little bundle of joy into the Post Office aged about 3 weeks old, she asked what I had named her. I told her and she replied ‘oh well, there’s still time to change it!’. On your plight – I can only imagine how hard it must be. My brother, by the way is a petro-physicist based in Perth with his own consultancy … if he can help at all please do holla. If I can, I will

        Liked by 2 people

      • Teddy and I laughed about poor Saskia – and such a beautiful name. That is such a generous offer regarding your brother and if you send me a personal email, Teddy can send you his resume/CV. We know that there is very little work around at the moment but every little contact helps, even if no work is available right now. My email is kerryduncan@comcast.net. Hugs

        Like

  2. I remember that rhyme: “Taffy was a Welshman, Taffy was a thief, Taffy came to my house and stole a leg of beef, I went to Tarry’s house, but Tarry was not home, So I returned the compliment and stole a marrow bone. ” My grandmother used to tell it to me. Sounds as if Taffy got the best of it, rather like Pippy. ๐Ÿ™‚

    What a beautiful girl she was, despite her thieving ways. ๐Ÿ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  3. She was a beauty. I’m afraid to say that my mum served countless meals like this when one or other cat would be caught hauling a leg of lamb across the floor. But you just can’t help loving them (cats AND mums!)

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Pingback: DEATH DEFYING MUMMY STUNT | Postcards from Kerry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s