Sandy

Sandy is the oldest soul in a fluffy young vessel, living a life that I could only dream of. Also a bit of a weirdo. My weirdo.

He was rescued in North Kerry, his mother having been run over by a car and 4 of his siblings being lost in the days following. Extracted at only 1-2 weeks old, he was nyoomed alongside his brother Astra to Cork, where he's been thrown straight into a life of being fawned over ever since.

In hindsight, he was split up from Astra too early, at 6-8 weeks old. His rescuer had decided I badly needed some company in my then-current state, and he was probably right.

Sandy spent his first 6 months with me in a tiny flat, plus a tiny concrete square about 1m² being the closest thing either of us had to a garden. He would spend about 16 hours a day napping on a little window bed I had mounted to some glass facing the main road, then when he couldn't take any more naps, he'd thump down to the ground and trot up to me squawking for attention. It was a nice little routine no matter how small it was.



There's a picture of me that will never see the light of day. I'm in bed looking like absolute shit, to the extent that I'm almost unrecognisable to myself now. Sandy is lying on my chest, face smushed up against my chin, paw wrapped around my shoulder. He did that every morning when I couldn't get out of bed. I think about it a lot. If I ever got the chance to ask him about it, he'd probably just brush it off and claim he had nothing better to do, but I know the truth :3

I would attempt to bring him on little car drives for enrichment, and some ill-advised walks on a lead around business parks at night where I almost lost him. It was enough to keep him reasonably entertained for a while, but he needed more.

When I was dating my then-partner, I would occasionally try to bring Sandy over to meet her kitties on a cat date of sorts. He hated them beyond belief.

We went on frequent weekend trips to my family, and he hated the cage so much that I let him wrap around my neck in the driver's seat. Would not recommend, but it was very funny for the year that I did it.

I got my second catChili as a treat for Sandy, and also some extra motivation for me to keep pushing and get them a better home. The two of them adored each other, and quickly outgrew that tiny place. He's never been the same after she left.

I moved into my new home for them first and foremost. I didn't really need a garden otherwise. Thankfully they loved it, and even forgave me for the stress of moving... in time.

Sandy has been, with no exeption on any day, a fluffy little delight. Very strange though. He's easily spooked, and seems constantly low-key stressed. He strikes me as the type of cat we could lose to the silliest little thing, even as cautious as he normally is.

What's great is his very clear preferences: the precise positioning of his food bowl, the need for a constant supply of dry food and special top-ups of wet, a constant desire for two Chilling Spots that he can move between at will, and his loving of antisocial loafing. Extremely autistic even as cats go.

He will be three years old this summer, and he already acts like he's thirty. Fluffy bastard took one look at me in 2022 and decided on an early retirement <3