As many will already know, I love my summers in Tréguennec. The more obvious pleasures come from the garden, the weather, the culture, the friendships and, of course, the fresh produce – the fish and meat couldn’t be bettered. But there is more; being here gives learning French added poignancy, offers a vantage point from where to ‘see’ the UK and provides opportunities to take on new projects.
Turning first to learning French. Words have always fascinated me and throughout my adult life I have gained great pleasure arranging them when speaking and writing. My mother tongue is English but now, as someone learning French, I get the same pleasures from the intricacies of my second language too. What fun it was to discover, for example that in English the Latin phrase quid pro quo means an exchange of a favour for a favour, while in French quiproquo (now all one word and without a ‘d’) means a mistake. I am still very much a student but, as is well established, learning is easier when living in the country where the language is spoken. Since 1st of July I have been enjoying my annual French linguistic fillip.
Now to reflections. From afar, and with a new awareness of Europe, I often puzzle over how the UK conducts itself and during the last month the focus has been on our handling of the Coronavirus pandemic.
Early in the pandemic, and so before we left London, I didn’t dare face reality – the truth was just too unbearable. Now I realise how catastrophic Johnson’s leadership has been as he has managed to engineer mortality figures higher than in almost every other country in the world. The way Johnson has behaved now makes me feel angry, ashamed and embarrassed. From the perspective of my French friends we have been led by a fool and a knave.
Compared to the gloom of the pandemic, my project this year, which arose by default, has been a delight. My original plan was to build a giant maze at the bottom of our garden but this idea had to be dropped because the weeds that were to be mowed to make the paths were so dense that they were uncuttable. Instead, I have spent much of my first month bringing up Minou, an abandoned, timid and initially emaciated, feral kitten (see my last blog – ‘Freedom and a Kitten Called Minou’)
We discovered Minou soon after we arrived in Tréguennec and his first priority was to eat and drink. Despite doubling in size over the next fortnight, he remained small and frightened; I only had to sneeze for him to rush off and hide. We decided that in the longterm his future could only be assured if he were adopted as a pet, but for this he would first need to be tamed. It was making him house-trained that became my project and on this I worked together with Rohan.
Within days of our decision a problem arose – he vanished. My usual calls brought no response and we soon gave up. He had, we supposed, been eaten by a fox. Not so; two days later Rohan heard a faint miaow coming from behind the washing line and soon she found a skinny, trembling Minou in a flower bed.
We restarted his meals, brought him a tiny rabbit hutch to play on and shelter in, hung a ping-pong ball from some string as a toy and talked to him as he ate. Eventually he allowed himself to be stroked, to be picked up and was even prepared to eat out of our hands – once with a slight hitch as he missed his quarry and, instead nipped one of my fingers! The next stage was to bring him indoors. But how?
It was a heavy storm that helped us decide. We were worried that he would ‘catch his death of cold’ and in a break in the downpour we rushed out, enticed him to eat, picked him using a pair of leather gloves and carried him to our entrance hall.
Everything had been prepared for his arrival and by that evening he had found the bed that we had made for him and had used the litter tray for his ‘business’ – in the wild he had used the recently-turned soft earth of freshly dug mole hills! Next, this once-wild kitten was purring, coming up for cuddles, rubbing himself against our ankles, sitting on my shoes (see illustration) and playing footy with a ping-pong ball. He was now a member of the family.
When word got around that Minou was tame, a close neighbour asked if she could adopt him and I know that when Minou leaves I will feel sad, hardly an emotion I would have if someone were to come and take Boris Johnson away, but I suspect he is untameable!
By the way, the neighbour has renamed Minou – Zoro!
The illustration shows a photo of Minou in our entrance hall staring up with his paws on my shoe.
For helping me write this blog, I would like to thank Rohan and Vivien.
9 thoughts on “A Student, a Fool and a Kitten Called Zoro”
what an adorable little kitten
Adorable kitten, and adorably English of you to take such trouble over him… trouble amply rewarded!
Dear Merrily, Thank you for your kind comment. It has been a delight bringing him up and it gives me great pleasure having him around the house. The idea that my Minou will be known as Zoro is rather less attractive! Love, Joe
Dear Joe, a lovely story of Minou and how you trained him. I like the name Zoro-it gives him a certain character!
I very much enjoy hearing your French tales. This is a French tail! He’s a sweet kitten. Interesting to hear that he’s been adoped by someone, but what I’ve heard about cats (I’ve never had one), is that they cannot be owned, like dogs. He may decide that he belongs with you (and might prefer his original name)!
Dear Robin, Thank you for your note. It’s good to hear from someone who likes Minou’s new name. I feel a bit better now. Love, Joe
Dear Andrea, Thank you for your comments. I wonder if you know the old adage – dogs have masters, cats have servants! Love, Joe
Thought best not to comment on Boris, but loved the rescue, nurturing and rehoming of Minou/Zoro… he will always be Minou to and Rohan and no doubt will visit you and your garden very often; the maze that never was is probably his perfect playground!
Dear Carolyn, Many thanks for your comment. I very much hope he visits us too, he has turned out to be so intelligent, entertaining and loveable. I think he likes us too. Love, Joe