Lockdown!
It’s here. And, truth be told, like many I was naive. My beloved Israel closed its borders to non-citizens right at the beginning of this crisis but I shrugged my shoulders, telling myself that El Al would get me home. Then Italy shut down, and I listened to my old friend Rebecca, locked up in Tuscany, paint a grim portrait of the situation.
Then Berlin, Madrid, and Paris shut down…By this time I was almost paralysed…incapable of making decisions about what to do, whether to stay put in London or make a dash for Tel Aviv. I hesitated - and then it was too late.
So it looks like I’m going to be spending a few weeks alone. Well, not quite - because I have Larry and Rita.
Larry and Rita are two adorable ginger cats that I first met last summer - they’re the proud brother and sister of Sara and Sam, a fabulous couple that I had the good fortune to connect with through a housesitting website (more of that in another blog post). I spent all of August and a fair bit of September taking care of them, at their home in a mews house in north London, whilst Sara and Sam explored Europe, and all five of us became such good friends that Sara invited me back to look after them once more in 2020.
Now I love cats but I really love these two - so how could I say no?
Within a couple of weeks, the world has been turned on its head. And after the Boris speech (where he tells us that he’s revoking our inalienable right to go down the pub) I know its curtains for the rest of my trip.
In the blink of an eye, my social life disintegrates, my wanderings in museums and art galleries are curtailed, my dinners with friends are no more and I find myself holed up in a pretty little north London mews house, with no-one but the gingies…
Within a few days, I’ve gone through endless emotions - disbelief, shock, anger, exhaustion, agitation, fear, low-grade anxiety, full-blown panic and then some.
Larry and Rita seem oblivious but actually I think I could be underestimating them. After all they are extremely smart felines (proof: they begin prowling round their food dispenser 10 minutes before they know its due to go off, and so if they’re conscious of time when they don’t have watches, then who knows what else is registering in their brains?!)
They seem, instinctively, to know what kind of mood I’m in each day…whether I want to dance, sing, read aloud to them, or give them a cuddle…at which point they jump on me gladly, nestling into me and purring like mad.
We soon develop a routine, Larry and I. (Rita loves me but she’s rather more independent). He wakes me each morning at 7,30, bumping his head against my face. After I’ve staggered up to the kitchen and made coffee, we read the headlines together. (I can see that Larry’s as concerned as I am at the way the government are completely cocking up this crisis).
There’s a lot of snoozing in the days too, I must admit. It’s easy enough to curl up on the sofa, with a book, the cats nestled into my left arm. It’s very comforting, all that ginger fur to stroke, and to chat away to them about anything and everything. After all, I know they’re going to keep it in the vault.
We play with feathers and silly toys, and I take to picking them up and dancing with them to ABBA, Stevie Wonder and Amy Winehouse. Rita likes Motown classics (particularly (Diana Ross) whilst Larry is more a fan of Sinatra - the big band classics I’d say.
In return for being swung around, they then pin me down whilst I’m on the sofa, by climbing on my chest. I am then a prisoner of the sofa for as long as they determine (or until they go off to their box, for a curl up).
The two of them have an astonishing relationship too - they’re not brother and sister (even though they look so alike) but they adore each other.
They groom each other, cuddle up with each other’s paws and chins nestling together, they curl around each other’s bodies for afternoon naps and at night, once I’ve switched the light off.
They are so affectionate towards each other that I am genuinely concerned at the thought of the one who survives
the other literally pining away (hopefully this day is a long day in the future…)
Like the parent of a young child, who savours every moment of their precious time with their offspring, I savour these days with Larry and Rita. On sunny afternoons, I open the doors to our tiny balcony and they wander out, sniffing the plants, stretching out on the concrete, clambering up onto the ledge (where Larry took a tumble last year - luckily he didn’t break anything but Sara tells me Rita was beside herself!) and staring at the sky.
I pick up my French press (I had the forethought to order pounds of beans, at least, before this misery began) and pour myself some afternoon caffeine then stroll out to join them. It is pretty damned quiet outside (“Stay Home, Save Lives” seems to be getting through) and with barely a car on the road and a person in sight, I can hear the birds chirping away merrily).
The three of this are in this lockdown together (they cannot return to the US, to be reunited with Sam and Sara because no cargo is moving) and I cannot return to Israel (because there are no flights, even for citizens).
And I won’t deny it, there are days when I’m really not doing that well.
Like everyone else, this is no picnic for me and the fact that I’m unable to see anyone in person, let alone hug them, is proving to be hard (some days are harder than others).
So I thank goodness for the gingies. Larry and Rita, who make each day that tiny bit easier to endure. Furballs, I’m going to miss you so much when I fly east and you fly west but your mummy and daddy have already invited me to Idaho and I’m pretty sure I’ll take them up on the offer.
The affection you’ve shown me in these dark days is much appreciated…and in years to come, when I think back to this odd time, I’ll remember what we’ve shared.
Larrry and Rita - you’re my lockdown lovelies!