Unwanted cats

How very sad. People are abandoning their cats like never before and cat shelters and charities are overwhelmed with the sheer number of cats - and kittens - coming through their doors.

The cats are being abandoned for various reasons. Because their owners can no longer afford them, what with the cost of living shooting up and veterinary fees rocketing. Because the owners just didn't realise how much attention they need. Because they've had kittens. Because they're over-active and disruptive. Because of a move to accommodation that forbids pets.

Many of the cats were bought during the pandemic lockdown to keep people occupied, which was fine until the reality of looking after a pet struck home and the cat was no longer welcome.

Jenny and I have never kept a cat, mainly because of the care and attention it would demand, which is okay if you're happy with that commitment but not otherwise. I love cats and I love seeing them when I'm out and about, but I love them strictly at a distance. If I did have a cat, I'm sure it would be disappointed with my minimal level of fondling and stroking.

Many cats don't warm to me anyway. Most of them run a mile when they see me. I've no idea why - is it my height, my glasses, or some strange vibe I'm putting out? The odd thing is that a small number of cats, far from running away, are ultra-friendly and keen to be petted.

People acquiring cats may not realise just what they're taking on. Cats can live up to 20 years, and like humans can develop a range of medical conditions as they age - like dental disease, arthritis, incontinence and loss of muscle strength. They're no light-hearted hobby.

Scary world

I'm finding that the virus lockdown has had the unexpected effect of making the outside world seem a lot nastier and scarier, and I've realised why that is. It's to do with my limited exposure to the outside world and the things I would normally do.

My knowledge of the outside world now comes mainly from the media, with its endless alarming headlines about one thing or another - male violence, civil wars, Brexit chaos, earthquakes, floods and all the rest.

Normally I would be going to places where I'm mingling with lots of other people - cinemas, art galleries, bookshops, cultural events, restaurants, coffee shops. All those people would be generally friendly, helpful, chatty, easy-going. None of them would be doing anything alarming or violent. They would be constantly reassuring me that the outside world is full of decent, sensible people, a quite different impression from the one painted by the media's shrieking headlines.

The guy in the coffee shop stroking his dog. The woman in the bookshop shelving new books. Restaurant diners laughing and sipping wine. The gallery attendant asking me what I thought of a certain artwork. All a strong antidote to the shocking things that are forever unfolding on the news bulletins.

I have to remind myself that the media presents a very slanted and distorted view of the world that doesn't reflect people's everyday experience. When I walk down the street* I'm not going to be accosted by drug dealers or mown down by guerilla fighters. I might just be accosted by someone asking for directions. Otherwise I can simply go about my business in the usual way.

I need a reality check. I need to do a bit more mingling.

*I realise that walking down the street is a very different experience for women, as the murder of Sarah Everard has reminded us yet again.

Pic: Our favourite local restaurant

Body blow

I should be used to it by now, but I'm always surprised by how many people dislike their body image and how few are happy with the way they look. Apparently the lockdown made many people even more critical of their physical appearance.

A parliamentary report found that 61 per cent of adults and 66 per cent of children feel negative about themselves most of the time. And the vast majority felt worse since the lockdown.

The women who felt worse blamed diet culture, post-natal pressures, the lack of older women in the media, and being bombarded with images of photoshopped, edited and sexualised women.

Men said body image concerns for them are also common but discussing them is still taboo, with pressure to "gain muscle mass" and look masculine.

What surprises me is that instead of regarding their physical appearance as their own business, and no one else's, so many people are striving after the fashionable "look", as displayed by highly untypical botox and surgery enhanced supermodels.

I feel like some kind of freak for actually being happy with my body as it is and not wanting to make it more "desirable". I don't want to be bulging with muscles, purged of body hair, a stone lighter, wrinkle-free or a bit bigger "down there". If people dislike the way I look, too bad. My only consideration is whether I'm physically healthy or not.

I have no wish to pour hundreds of pounds into the bank accounts of the beauty industry moguls who want me to buy perfume, moisturiser, body lotion, make-up, hair removal products, nail polish and all the other more and more numerous "must have" beauty aids.

If anyone thinks my nose is the wrong shape or my bum's too big, that's their problem, not mine.

Under siege

This constant threat posed by the coronavirus is causing the most dramatic sense of being "under siege" I've ever experienced in my lifetime. Nothing else comes near to it. I didn't live through the Second World War, I didn't live through the Troubles, I've never faced repeated flooding or being caught in turf wars by drug dealers. For me this is something very new and very strange.

I'm reminded of under-siege situations I've been through in the past, but they're utterly trivial by comparison. They were hugely stressful at the time but compared to what we're living through now, they pale into insignificance. I wasn't facing the possibility of an agonising death. I wasn't liable to be infected by absolutely anyone I came too close to. I wasn't at serious risk whenever I went out to the shops. They were just difficult situations that came and went.

Several times I've been "under siege" by neighbours. People who were endlessly noisy, people with drink problems, people who had all-night parties, people clattering across wooden floors in high heels.

Now I think, well, I may have had annoying neighbours, but at least I could still go into the outside world without the threat of deadly germs everywhere I went. At least I could continue my everyday life without every step restricted by the two-metre rule.

At least Jenny and I are under siege together. We can discuss how it feels, how it's affecting our daily life, how long it might last, and how well the government is handling the situation (answer - not very well at all). It must be worse for people living on their own, maybe with nobody to talk to or vent their feelings with. I feel a bit like a small child again, only allowed to leave the house if I promise to be VERY VERY careful and not do anything silly.

Compensation culture

So Jenny and I may be in lockdown, and unable to indulge some of our familiar outside pleasures - coffee and pastries at Caffè Nero, a Fiorentina at Pizza Express, a movie at the Queens Film Theatre, or a new art exhibition at the Metropolitan Arts Centre - but we're compensating with a little more of our usual domestic pleasures:

• A few glasses of New Zealand or Aussie white wine
• Peppermint Aero, Twix, Lindt truffles
• A long walk round the huge Stormont estate (walking is allowed)
• A Scrabble tournament - so far Jenny 4, Nick 4. I scraped ahead in the seventh game with "XI" (fourteenth letter of the Greek alphabet), which scores 9
• Watching DVDs. We've just ordered two more - Notting Hill and Gimme Shelter (the Stones film, not the other one)
• Watching Location Location Location. I love nosing around other people's homes - and potential homes
• Reading books voraciously. My current read is The Narrow Land by Christine Dyer Hickey. The one before was Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo
• Listening to music. Especially Bob Dylan, Sheryl Crow, Bonnie Raitt, Laura Mvula, Annie Lennox, Courtney Barnett
• Doing sudokus. Jenny can do the really tricky ones that always defeat me
• Watching the spring growth in the garden. The camellia bush is finally flowering, weeks after everyone else's 
• Seeing what's new on Facebook. No cute kittens recently
• The usual free-wheeling political discussions in which we put the world to rights, find an antidote for the coronavirus, instigate world peace, finish off capitalism, and wonder when Labour's going to get its act together

What could be more enjoyable? But it's a slightly guilty enjoyment knowing that out there thousands of people are dying, leaving grief-stricken loved ones, health workers aren't properly protected from the virus (my niece is a nurse in Cambridge), and thousands of people are losing their jobs and facing destitution.

Frightening doesn't begin to describe the desperate situation we're all in.