The Misadventures of Little Sir Domino

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The Great Paw Disaster!

“When my cats aren’t happy, I’m not happy. Not because I care about their mood but because I know they’re just sitting there thinking up ways to get even.”

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Assuming I have followers who are regular enough to notice, I’d like to apologise for the missing post last Saturday. I planned to write about “The Great Squirrel Hunt Part II” but before I sat down to start, I tripped over our little sir.

Answering an urgent yowl from the hallway, I met Domino sprinting full pelt at me. Then quick as a sudden crack in glass his paw and my toes were tangled up. Dom wrenched himself free and shot off under the coffee table. He curled in on himself, refusing treats and recoiling from fuss. Simply put, it was terrifying. Cats always run away and hide when they’re in pain so naturally we were worried something was seriously wrong with our boy. `

We sat for an hour in silence, watching until, tentatively, Domino limped out from under the table for a treat, holding his left paw off the ground. This was simultaneously a relief and a fright. The most unsettling thing about the whole situation was how calm and quiet Dom was acting: he is usually rocket powered in the evening. I called the out of hours vet, trying valiantly to keep the tears out of my voice, who advised that we keep an eye on him for a few days and if he was still lame on Monday to bring him in. Instinctively, I bristled at the word “lame”, having rarely heard it used as anything other than an insult – funny the words we choose to express inferiority and dislike. The etymology of most insults, even those considered mild and harmless, tend to reveal the worst of human kind. Cats certainly wouldn’t stand for such nonsense!

Thankfully, when we took Domino upstairs with us he recovered enough to nibble elbows, burrow under arms and generally go cracker-cat all over our bed like it was his personal bouncy castle. In the morning he seemed right in himself, but he was still limping. 

Looking for reassurance, Domino and I took a trip to his Godmeowthers’ house for an examination. His knee and shoulder joints felt fine. He didn’t cry or flinch when his paw pad was pressed. He spent the morning  stalking cousin Moriarty around the living room and racing after treats. But, worryingly, he did it all on three legs. 

At my desk on Monday morning, scrutinised by the bat-like ears of 30 S2 pupils, I phoned the vet for an emergency appointment. There had been no improvement over the weekend. Besieged by questions about Dom’s health, I had to promise to update the class on how he was doing as soon as I heard. Reassuring the kids calmed me down enough to be optimistic but the consultation didn’t bring good news – I was devastated to hear that our little sir needed an x-ray for suspected broken toes!

Next morning, guilt gnawed and wormed inside me as I signed consent forms and listened to the vet explaining the risks of sedation. I loathed leaving Domino at the vet all day while I went off to work, though my anxiety did wonders for my classroom management. Turns out “Just don’t today, my kitten is sick”, is more effective than the dreaded “teacher glare”. 

Mercifully, Domino’s x-ray showed no breaks or fractures. Diagnosis – bad bruises and swollen cartilage. Nearly a week on, our little sir is recovering well, milking his injury for fuss and treats, lounging around and being extra affectionate. As soon as he’s back on all four paws, we’ll be back to our adventures.

In the meantime, check back tomorrow for the Great Squirrel Hunt Part II! 

The Great Squirrel Hunt Part I

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“A cat has absolute emotional honesty: human beings, for one reason or another, may hide their feelings, but a cat does not.”

– Ernest Hemingway

With Domino being so young, I wasn’t keen to leave him alone for long so, rather eccentrically, I’m told, I started taking him with me whenever I left the house to visit friends or family. Domino’s first big adventure (pre-vaccinations) came about when my friend, Claire, asked me if I wanted to track down the squirrels on the Highland Hospice’s Go Nuts Art Trail. It took us three days to tick 22/23 off our list – sadly, the last squirrel was inaccessible because the Castle of Mey was closed to visitors at the time. 

After two solid days of driving all over the Highlands, pausing only to take selfies with 5ft high, decorative squirrels, I couldn’t let Domino spend another day alone. Slowly but surely, Domino had grown used to travelling by car, and we had a short day planned so I packed his blanket and lunch, clipped in his seatbelt and the little sir was given map reading duties – with decidedly mixed results. 

First, we visited ‘Sunny’ by Jenna Hayden in Tain’s Rose Garden. Domino wasn’t about to miss out on a selfie opportunity after navigating us to the spot but, not being allowed to touch a paw to the ground, he had to settle for being carried.

I almost lost him as a seagull twice his size swooped in for a look and my fearless adventurer started spoiling for a fight. As I ferried Dom deeper into the garden, he opened his mouth wider than his eyes to taste the fresh mown grass and the faint smell of petrol which mingled with the sweet perfume of the roses. Initially this cute, but admittedly gormless, behaviour gave me a bit of a start but I have since learned that cat’s have a vomeronasal sac in the roof of their mouth to help them identify interesting aromas. His whiskery ears twitched, turned and flattened at the unfamiliar symphony of chirruping birdsong, snatches of human conversation and humming car engines. Placing his paws on my shoulder, he stretched like a meerkat to better take in his surroundings. The tell tale tensing of Domino’s hind legs hurried Claire and I through our pictures and we hastened to get the little sir safely back in the car before he went exploring solo.

  • Domino appreciates ‘Sunny’ by Jenna Hayden

En Route to our next Squirrel, ‘Hector’ by Sarah Dunton, Domino’s map reading skills failed us – perhaps this was his revenge on us for preventing him from ambling about the gardens. This intricately painted, floral squirrel had set up home in the Rosehaugh Estate on the Black Isle. Being locals we assumed our visit with ‘Hector’ to be a flying one on the way to the walking trail in Inverness. You know what they say about assumptions, right? We combed the Black Isle between Avoch and Munlochy for hours, venturing down routes that were more pothole than road. My little Hyundai bounced and jostled violently, despite my crawling pace and Domino didn’t hold back in his eloquent critique of my offroading skills. He soon settled down purring after being wrapped tightly in a blanket burrito on Claire’s lap though.

Incidentally, if you ever experience a car journey with Domino, he might try to convince you that he is afraid of the car. Trust me, he has been perfectly at ease on worse roads. This little sir’s only complaint about the car is his disdain for safety: if he had his way he’d being allowed to climb freely, bat the gearstick and perch, parrot-like on the driver’s shoulder. 

  • Image credit: Claire O’Donnell

Defeated by hanger we weary adventurers pulled into Munro Nurseries in Bog Allan, where Domino enjoyed a backseat smorgasbord of AVA kibble and wet food sprinkled with a few ‘Healthy Bites’ treats while we sated our hunger in the cafe. Though we felt better with full bellies, it was galling to leave ‘Hector’ off our list after such a long search. We approached the junction where a decision had to be made: left or right? Without much hope I turned right toward Avoch and lo and behold the Rosehaugh Estate was clearly signposted on the outskirts of the village! In our defence we had previously approached Avoch from the opposite side. Jubilant, I wound my car up the hill following tiny squirrel signposts which had been added to the estate and, as we crested the hill, ‘Hector’ came into view!

‘Hector’ by Sarah Dunton

After photographing ‘Hector’, we dropped Domino home for a well earned rest. Although he would gladly have joined us for the last leg of the hunt and though he had made great strides in his harness training at this point, he was, alas, still  too young to brave the walking trail. 

Next week, in The Great Squirrel Hunt Part II, a fully vaccinated Domino makes the trek to Castle of Mey, Thurso and enjoys the dewy feel of grass between toe beans for the first time!

See more of Domino: https://www.instagram.com/domino_kitkat/

See more of Claire’s fab photos: https://www.instagram.com/codonnell_/

How I got Domino travelling like a pro

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“There is, incidentally, no way of talking about cats that enables one to come off as a sane person.”

― Dan Greenberg


It’s taken a little trial and error to get little sir Domino accustomed to travelling by car without someone to cradle him in a blanket fur-ito but now, at 12 weeks old, he’s a pro. 

Travel Fur-ito and little ted

Initially – like most pet owners – I zipped my kitty into a purpose bought carrier and strapped it into the back seat of the car. Unfortunately this resulted in low angry moans or high-pitched appeals for sympathy on the short trips we took. Domino’s distaste for travelling in his carrier was probably compounded by his first trip to the vet where he was told he had an undescended testicle (which has since dropped). Even now he will complain for the first 10 minutes of a car journey until he is sure that we definitely aren’t visiting the vet.

My younger sister, Ami, has a gorgeous Akita/Staffie cross (cousin Loki)  who happened to leave his doggy seatbelt in the back of my car, so on our next trip I decided to give it a go. I lined the back seat with his favourite blanket and some of his favourite toys, strapped him into his harness and clipped the belt to the D-ring. We ventured out to Muir of Ord to visit Auntie Ami at work to show Domino that not all car journeys lead to the vet! The journey there went well: Dom enjoyed his newfound freedom and I could hear the maraca shake of his ball being batted around – I thought I’d cracked it. However, on the way home Domino made a desperate lunge for the front of the car! Mercifully, his belt stopped him short of my hand break but he strained, yowled and cried all the way home as he tried to reach me. It was gut wrenching.

On our next trip I turned off the airbag and attempted to belt Domino into the front seat but unfortunately the doggy belt isn’t compatible with my front belt clips. Instead, I looped his short lead round the headrest and secured it to his harness. Again, the outward journey went smoothly and Domino seemed much more relaxed in the front seat where he could see I was close by. On the return journey Domino tested the limits of his tether by climbing up the side of the chair and leaping onto my shoulder. I dread to think what passing motorists thought as I did my best to drive on, ignoring my new parrot, eyes peeled for the next layby. 

You can’t tell me what to do.

By far the most mischievous thing Domino has done in the car is, having had his tether significantly shortened, wriggling out of his harness and settling himself on my lap as I drove. As sweet as it is to have a purring kitten clamber onto your knee I was not about to encourage such reckless behaviour. With one hand I blindly scooped him up and dumped him unceremoniously back onto the passenger seat – why is there never a layby when you need one? Domino promptly took his revenge by leaping into the back and climbing up onto the boot cover to shout loudly about his mistreatment at the car behind. I still have nightmares about the SSPCA turning up at my door!

I sits.

Ultimately my little sir has decided he prefers a pet seat belt just long enough to allow him access to the footwells in the back. Although if I am travelling with a human companion he enjoys a warm lap to lounge on. Most recently, on very short journeys, I’ve tried tying the seatbelt to the stalk of the belt clip in the front and wrapping him in his blanket on the passenger seat beside me. This is a great option when he is tired so my next purchase will be a carabiner clip pet belt which will ensure Domino is as safe as can be if we are ever unlucky enough to be in a crash.

The Great Squirrel Hunt Part II

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“Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea.”

Robert A. Heinlein

I am not a morning person, especially not during the summer holidays where I can’t be formally disciplined for sleeping in, but being greeted by a purring kitten makes it worth throwing off the duvet. On this particular morning we had to get moving quickly because the final squirrel on the Highland Hospice ‘Go Nuts’ Art Trail was at last open to the public: ‘Sweet Things’ by Hannah Beresford. This nature inspired squirrel made its home near the animal centre in The Castle of Mey, Thurso, 123 miles from our starting point.

Domino and I picked up Claire at a little after 9 to begin our winding trek northwards. Dom curled into his blanket burrito on Claire’s lap and promptly went back to sleep until we stopped in Wick for fuel. Petrol for the car, meal deal for the humans, and kibble in the backseat for the little sir. Fully fuelled, we set the sat nav for The Castle of Mey and ventured on.

In anticipation of our castle adventure, I purchased a space capsule backpack for my little sir. Domino peered from the bubble window like an astronaut, taking in the new sights and smells as we hunted through the grounds for our final squirrel. Spotting the candy pinks and blues of ‘Sweet Things’, the three of us were ecstatic. We snapped our final selfies and thus our quest was complete, but the day’s adventures had just begun.

From the safety of his kitty capsule, Domino came nose to nose with the castle donkey and watched jealously as I held 6 day old chicks and ducklings in the animal centre. Soon after that the little sir started to mew and paw at the mesh sides of his capsule so we stopped at the nearest bench and I unzipped his bag, setting it on the ground. The bag is designed to be a safe place to retreat to if your cat gets overstimulated on a walk. It opens out so that one half creates a matt and, when attached, the tether stretches far enough for kitty to take a few steps in either direction. 

  • What is that?

Being a fearless adventurer in the making, Domino showed great contempt towards the confines of his tether and dragged his capsule inch by inch away from the bench, attracting the attention of a group of American tourists. He took the drawling coos and instagram snaps in his stride, saying hello to everyone and playing to the camera. I missed a trick by not giving out his insta handle for them to tag him but next time I’ll be quicker off the mark. Once the tourists had finished fussing him, Dom made it perfectly apparent that he would not be zipped quietly back into his backpack, so I had to dash to the car for the short lead I’d been using as a makeshift seatbelt. I hadn’t planned on this trip being his first outdoor walk, I thought the maiden voyage of the space capsule backpack was enough for one day, but back then I was still under the misguided belief that I made the decisions. 

Based on the lead training we’d done in the house, I was prepared for a lot of stopping, coaxing, bribing and starting but my little sir surprised me. As soon as he realised he was free to explore he stalked ahead of us into the undergrowth. His gait alternated between low, panther strides and spring lamb bounds. He sniffed everything, darted after birdsong and even sharpened his murder mittens on a tree. I’m not sure which of us was more delighted: me, filled with pride and awe like parent watching their toddler’s first steps, or Domino revelling in the fresh feel of dewy grass beneath his paws and the newfound freedom to follow the delicious scents of the woodland. 

Claire and I were able to walk along at our natural pace while Domino weaved in and out of us, showing a distinct lack of fear of being crushed by Claire’s crutches, and a distinct lack of awareness of how close he came to toppling her. I’d estimate that Domino’s first walk was about half a mile – which to a tiny kitten is quite a feat! At the end of the walk Domino was happy to comply with the castle rules (no dogs in the garden, which I grudgingly accepted would also apply to kittens) and nestled into his backpack, assuming his gormless mouth open scenting posture for our trip around the fragrant walled garden. 

After all the excitement Dom settled down for a snack and a nap in the footwell of my car. Leaving him to relax, Claire and I walked back through the gates sans kitten – much to the disappointment of the castle guard – for the interior tour.

Though the three of us were plenty tired from our exploration of the Castle of Mey, it seemed criminal, being so far north, not to visit John o’ Groats and the lighthouse at Scotland’s most northern point. It was at these destinations that Domino discovered a deep disdain for wind and an unsettling curiosity about free roaming rams – we didn’t stay long. 

Comfort Break at Camster Cairns

Domino and I made it home to a worried cat dad just before midnight and, needless to say, we both slept in for a very long time the next day.

RPD Kitten Poetry: ‘Emergency’

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My summoning yowl brings my human fast

The game afoot, I dash, black flash. Smarting

crush. Wriggle, wrench, flee – pain threshold surpassed.

Must hide, curl in. Must conceal the hurting.

Be small, be still – keep predators at bay.

Eyes I don’t recognise, fingers advance…

Slowly, surroundings seem safe. Fears allay.

I recognise concerned eyes, cautious hands.

Familiar scents, and soothing sounds lure

me out from my sanctuary. Test, step, fall

my paw smarts anew, each toe tap torture.

Shrink back, curl in, must be still, must be small.

Limp forward, duck under arm and nuzzle,

cry: ‘Gather me up, human. Need cuddle’.

RDP Kitten Poetry: ‘Eventually’

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I see by the light of the orange dot.

Many toys are strewn across the landing

There to entertain me, a lovely thought

But in the dark you won’t hear me purring.

Sleeping humans are inconvenient!

Lonely? Never. I’m aloof; I’m a cat.

But still in the dark I am not content.

Until they wake, no lure, chase or combat…

Are they still breathing? They don’t hear my call.

My bowl is half empty but there’s plenty

Still to satiate me. No noise at all

From behind the door. I’ll stand sentry.

The darkness thins. I hear my humans stir.

I call, the door’s opened – at last I purr.

How I adopted Domino

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“The phrase ‘domestic cat’ is an oxymoron.”

George Will

About Us 

I’m a writer, an English teacher and a cat lover. My earliest memory is staring down at a sea of black fur and picking out the only white wave – even then I was contrary. My mum wasn’t prepared with a cat carrier so we were given a box with two tiny kittens inside: one each for my sister and me. Toddling home, I clutched my new best friend to my chest and I still vividly remember the heat of her tiny body in the nook of my collar bone. Doing the maths, I must have been just shy of my third birthday but the memory has stood the test of time.

My sweet girl, Margaret, saw me through to adulthood and sadly passed away on bonfire night at 18 years old. There followed five painful cat-less years as I flitted from rental to rental, to put letters after my name and train to teach.

Margaret ‘Maggie’ 1996-2014

This year my partner and I became home owners and I took responsibility of my first registration  class at work. Though seemingly disparate facts, both were essential in bringing Domino and I together. One morning as I was fighting with my fossil of a classroom computer one of my first year lads came running in with a story to tell:

“Miss! Guess what happened to me this weekend?” He exclaimed.

I looked up smiling. One of the best things about being a teacher is being privy to the entertaining stories kids tell. 

“I was stroking my cat and she made a weird noise then there was kitten! We didn’t even know she was pregnant!”

Immediately, the cogs in my head started whirring: I wanted nothing more than a kitten of my own. Over the next few weeks every work day started with updates on “baby kitkat”. 

“You’ve got a 70% chance, Miss.” 

“You’ve got a 95% chance, Miss.”

Until at last he told me his mum was bringing the kitten with her when she picked him up. 

It was love at first sight: Domino nestled into the nook of my collar bone just like Maggie used to do; His warm body triggered a Proustian sense memory and I knew in my core I had to keep him. 

Though initially not keen, my partner thankfully agreed to adopt Domino, knowing how important a feline friend is to me. From mini football to destroying the house plants, my boys are now thick as thieves. 

The pair of us are well and truly under this charming kitten’s paw – now he’s got his sights set on the rest of you!