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Just been out for my afternoon-tea-break-cigarette in the works car park at the back, and on stepping out there was promptly ambushed by a fluffy little ball of inky-black affection.
UPDATE
I promise you all I was not just going to nick off with him! Plan was to take him to the vet's and then release him if they said he was fit enough.
Car-park was a markedly cat-free zone when I went out with the special Publisher's Book Delivery Box (complete with hastily-stabbed airholes and my own T-shirt in the bottom of it) at clocking-off today. So I popped into the vet's and explained the situation, and she was very helpful, plus reassuring - she said the skin complaint sounds like an allergy to fleas (which, whilst that might not exactly be lots of fun, at least is fairly pedestrian, and isn't severely painful or in danger of dropping him dead at any minute), and that they have procedures when it's possibly strays (which is basically leafleting here, there and everywhere and letting various people know they've found one).
So, the consensus is that if I do find him and manage to catch him, it's into the vet's for an hour to check for a microchip. If no joy there, then I get him treated for whatever's up with him, release him round the back of the office again, and stick posters all around the village with my mobile # on, asking the owners to get in touch with me, as I'm worried he's a stray. (Perhaps also feeding him a bit round the back of the office if he gets noticeably thinner - vet said if he gets especially thin, to catch him and bring him back to them.)
Yep, my cat-magnet appears to be working. Sat down on the steps and stroked/fussed/played with it for a good ten minutes.
And I'm slightly concerned about it. It doesn't look very old - kind of a grown-up kitten, if that makes sense. It's sturdy enough, and its coat is thick, if a bit coarse and dusty. No collar. Didn't seem to have fleas (and I definitely know what to look for), or any injuries, but possibly has a bit of a skin complaint. In short, a bit scabby - not nastily so, but still...
It's incredibly affectionate, and very alert. And it took me a further three minutes to actually get in the door because it kept twining itself around my boots and making that pathetically pleading little 'Meeowp' sound...
Oh, hell. I think it's a stray.
And I'm not altogether sure what I should be doing about it.
From conversation with colleagues, we think it's probably the same one that sits under people's cars in the car park, so it's obviously been hanging about here for a while.
I'm going to take a cardboard box down with me at 5, and see if I can coax it into that...then if the village vets are open, take it down there, and see if it's been microchipped. If we establish it's a stray, and needs treatment of some kind for its skin, I don't mind paying for that.
But what do I do after that?
Hell knows. Sabre will go six kinds of crazy if I bring it back to the flat. And probably fight it. :-/ (Not to mention getting it on the bus in just a cardboard box...)
Course, it might be a loved pet that's just tarting about for a free meal.* It didn't exactly look malnourished.
*My own Sabre has taken to jumping on the utility-room roof and doing exactly this with ColinUpstairs [man in the other flat], plus coercing his way into ColinUpstairs' flat, much to my embarrassment, though the man insists it's fine and he likes having him about. (Oh, the shame. "I do feed him, you know...")
What to do about the fluffy wee black one, though...?
UPDATE
I promise you all I was not just going to nick off with him! Plan was to take him to the vet's and then release him if they said he was fit enough.
Car-park was a markedly cat-free zone when I went out with the special Publisher's Book Delivery Box (complete with hastily-stabbed airholes and my own T-shirt in the bottom of it) at clocking-off today. So I popped into the vet's and explained the situation, and she was very helpful, plus reassuring - she said the skin complaint sounds like an allergy to fleas (which, whilst that might not exactly be lots of fun, at least is fairly pedestrian, and isn't severely painful or in danger of dropping him dead at any minute), and that they have procedures when it's possibly strays (which is basically leafleting here, there and everywhere and letting various people know they've found one).
So, the consensus is that if I do find him and manage to catch him, it's into the vet's for an hour to check for a microchip. If no joy there, then I get him treated for whatever's up with him, release him round the back of the office again, and stick posters all around the village with my mobile # on, asking the owners to get in touch with me, as I'm worried he's a stray. (Perhaps also feeding him a bit round the back of the office if he gets noticeably thinner - vet said if he gets especially thin, to catch him and bring him back to them.)
Yep, my cat-magnet appears to be working. Sat down on the steps and stroked/fussed/played with it for a good ten minutes.
And I'm slightly concerned about it. It doesn't look very old - kind of a grown-up kitten, if that makes sense. It's sturdy enough, and its coat is thick, if a bit coarse and dusty. No collar. Didn't seem to have fleas (and I definitely know what to look for), or any injuries, but possibly has a bit of a skin complaint. In short, a bit scabby - not nastily so, but still...
It's incredibly affectionate, and very alert. And it took me a further three minutes to actually get in the door because it kept twining itself around my boots and making that pathetically pleading little 'Meeowp' sound...
Oh, hell. I think it's a stray.
And I'm not altogether sure what I should be doing about it.
From conversation with colleagues, we think it's probably the same one that sits under people's cars in the car park, so it's obviously been hanging about here for a while.
I'm going to take a cardboard box down with me at 5, and see if I can coax it into that...then if the village vets are open, take it down there, and see if it's been microchipped. If we establish it's a stray, and needs treatment of some kind for its skin, I don't mind paying for that.
But what do I do after that?
Hell knows. Sabre will go six kinds of crazy if I bring it back to the flat. And probably fight it. :-/ (Not to mention getting it on the bus in just a cardboard box...)
Course, it might be a loved pet that's just tarting about for a free meal.* It didn't exactly look malnourished.
*My own Sabre has taken to jumping on the utility-room roof and doing exactly this with ColinUpstairs [man in the other flat], plus coercing his way into ColinUpstairs' flat, much to my embarrassment, though the man insists it's fine and he likes having him about. (Oh, the shame. "I do feed him, you know...")
What to do about the fluffy wee black one, though...?
