Ginge Club

News and events from George Collingwood, children's author

17 Jun 2013
2 Comments

Grand Master Alleycat

Know thy placeI’ve wanted to show you this for a long time, but sometimes it’s hard to capture the moment.  I’m off work today, and it’s raining, but it’s not all bad because at long last I managed to snap a photo of Alleycat exercising his prerogative and lording it over the contents of the communal water-bowl.  Many a time, when Bernie and Lucy are parched and need a drink, Alleycat gets to the water first, and once he’s there he settles down for a long leisurely drink and the dogs have to wait their turn until Grand Master Alleycat allows them to approach. The dogs are patient, dutiful creatures and they understand Alleycat’s pre-eminence.  Pink has her own ideas about that, it has to be said, and she imagines she’s at the top of the pecking order (which in a way she is) but she relies on Alleycat to keep the peace in the house and who knows where’d she be if she didn’t have Bamber to patrol the fences and keep the Six Foot clear of encroaching cats and wild, ungovernable marauders.

Posted in Alleycat, Cats, Dogs and tagged , ,
14 Jun 2013
2 Comments

Pink’s magic window

Pink's window shoppingPink watched TV yesterday (and today). She prefers nature programmes and she likes it especially when the birds start tweeting. Then she jumps on the cabinet under the TV and tries to locate the source of the birdsong. Her ears and her eyes are telling her there are birds in the room, somewhere on the other side of that magical, flat-bedded window that she can’t pass through. There’s no smell (we don’t have high definition) and the image is flat because it’s a flat screen TV. Pink knows all that, sort of.  I mean she knows it isn’t real.  It’s not like she’s out there, with the wind in her whiskers and the sounds of the birds running through her whole body. It’s a bit like that, but not quite. Out in the garden, or out in the fields, the birds are a different kettle of fish. Pink is wise. She knows the difference.

Posted in Animal stories, Cats, Children's fiction, Pink and tagged ,
09 Jun 2013
6 Comments

Pink’s siestas

Pink in the sunI was wondering if I should write today about the exceptional sensitivities of cats, such as how their whiskers can see, and how their eyes react to various spectra that we poor sapiens can’t detect. But then I realized that the most interesting thing about cats (and their greatest gift) is how little they do. Pretty much all of the time these days (it being so warm and summery) they lie and sunbathe, and when they aren’t sunbathing they’re waking up from a sleep in the sun and preparing for their next siesta. It’s a cat’s life!Pink reclines

Posted in Animal stories, Cats, Children's fiction, Pink and tagged ,
01 Jun 2013
2 Comments

At the Ginge Club’s beck and call

Alleycat and meThe dogs have trained me to give them a walk when I get up in the morning.  The cats on the other hand don’t need to train me to do things.  If Alleycat wants to be picked up and carried around or if he just wants to sit in my arm and survey his kingdom, he’s able to convey his wishes with a gesture or a glance.   Maybe it’s telepathy.  You can feel what he’s thinking most of time just by looking at him, and his eyes carry messages to me across the spaces between us.  Pink’s different; she just reaches out and takes whatever she wants with her little paw.  She talks all the time but she doesn’t need to say anything. That’s the sort of cat she is.  You can’t say no to Pink.  She has ways of making us see when she isn’t happy and she usually gets what she wants in the end.Gimme that!

Posted in Alleycat, Animal stories, Cats, Children's fiction, Pink and tagged , , ,
25 May 2013
4 Comments

The acme of indolence

Alleycat reclinesNot a lot of people know this, but Alleycat was living in Six Foot Way the day we all arrived.  He was in the house, looking after it, keeping it clear and keeping it clean and when we showed up out of the blue he allowed us in through the door and gave us permission to stay. It’s hard to say how old he is. Old certainly.  Years, decades.  He’s lived a long time because he’s lazy.  Sometimes you see him on the lawn, staring at a blade of grass, and then you realize he’s staring at the drop of dew that’s hanging on the end of it.  And then finally, you understand that he’s staring at something else entirely, something only he can see.  What I see is that he’s the laziest cat who ever lived. He’s the acme of indolence. Pink’s no better (is that a good thing?). Alleycat’s training her up to do nothing.  And doing nothing is the secret of living for ever where cats are concerned.Yawn!

Posted in Alleycat, Animal stories, Cats, Pink and tagged , , , ,
18 May 2013
4 Comments

Professor Pink

Professor PinkIf she could read, Pink would check out the tales of the Ginge Club and make sure she’s presented in the best possible light, as the most beautiful, alluring and fashionable pink cat who ever lived.  I’ve told her that’s exactly how she’s presented in the stories, and in the blog, but I don’t think she trusts me entirely.  That’s why she’s been staring at my Kindle, trying to see inside it.   She probably thinks it’s a mirror.  She knows what mirrors are because she spends hours every day staring into the one in our bedroom, preening herself and showing off to the looking glass.  Alleycat’s different.  He says he doesn’t care what anyone thinks so long as he can sleep whenever and wherever he wants and demand food at the drop of a hat.  Of course, he’s given me a few guidelines.  For one, thing. I’m never to give Snatcher too much attention or importance and for another I’ve got to impress everyone with Alleycat’s fine qualities.  Bamber alone of our three cats has little interest in such matters.  He doesn’t care about social media and his heart is set on being a cat and staying a cat and doing the best he can at being that.Mr Content

Posted in Alleycat, Animal stories, Cats, Children's fiction, Pink and tagged , , ,
16 May 2013

The Snatcher look

Looking downThis is Pink’s Snatcher look.  She learned it when Snatcher lived with us and terrorized the rest of the animals with his high-handed haughty ways.   Its years since Snatcher left Wayside Cottage and went to live with the Car-Man (who taught him to be nastier than he needs to be) but you can see there are things behind his eyes that he doesn’t bother to hide.  The same goes for Pink.   All our cats have secrets in one way or another, except for Bamber.  He’s simple and true and honest.  He wears no mask.  He’s the only normal cat we have.  Snatcher was a dreadful thief, and he lied all the time, almost without trying.  He never took the blame for anything but when he left we found a large stash of contraband (including some precious stories) behind the wardrobe in the spare room, where he had his quarters.Young Snatcher

Posted in Cats, Pink, Snatcher and tagged , , | Leave a Comment
12 May 2013

There and back again

LeviathanA fat cat thin or a thin cat fat?  When Alleycat was young he was thin, but suddenly one day he became enormously fat, like a bear getting ready to hibernate, or like a cat leviathan.Thin old Allycat  But there was method and purpose behind his bulking-up.  He was building his physical power in the knowledge that soon he’d be poisoned (and he was) but he got himself through his ordeal and burned off the poison by burning away his fat.  He came near the Door of Death, and he saw through it, and who knows what arcane knowledge he glimpsed out of the edge of his cat’s eyes in those days when the poison was attacking him. But now the poison’s gone and he’s as thin and fit as he was when he was young, and as for me I’m a little bit fatter than I’d like to be, so Alleycat and I have started running together.  We jog together along the disused railway line near my house, and sometimes we stop and listen for the ghostly whistling of the old-time trains.  By the way, it’s Alleycat in both of the photos, fat and young at the top, old and thin at the side.

Posted in Alleycat, Animal stories, Cats, Children's fiction, Trains and tagged , , , | Leave a Comment
03 May 2013

The world of Pink

Pink thinks everything becomes her. Some animalsThinks about it again change colour to match their surroundings, but Pink’s surroundings change texture and hue according to her whim and fancy. In her youth she was abject and easy to upset. I found her once on the worktop in the utility room, crying because one of the local cats had been nasty to her. She slept on my pillow that night, and for many nights afterwards, and sometimes I think I may have given her too much confidence and paid her too much attention for her own good, because now it’s all so different and instead of being a shrinking violet she’s a little tyrant. In the old days even Bamber used to bully her a bit, because that’s what boys are like. Alleycat used to wonder if she could really be one of us The snifter(meaning one of the Ginge Club) and when she went out of doors we worried that she’d never come back – she was that weak and puny. But now the Ginge Club are all at her command and she’s their Queen and even Alleycat does her bidding and makes way for her.  Her glass might have started off empty but it didn’t stay empty for long, and these days it only takes one look from her for her cup to fill up with her favourite liqueur just simply because she wills it so.

Even our kitchen is PINK!
And our glassware is PINK TOO!

Posted in Cats, Children's fiction, Dimchurch Spire, Pink and tagged , , , | Leave a Comment
30 Apr 2013
4 Comments

Chips with everything please

blog 30 april 2013 024Do cats rate chips?  Bamber does.  I gave him a chip on my fork and he lapped it up. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I did. For the last month we’ve been in the throes of getting a new kitchen installed, and during the whole of that time we haven’t had water in the taps.  Hence we’ve relied on processed food and home cooking has eaten dust.  But Bamber loves rubbish food, he loves fatty chips, meat products laced with bad chemicals and oozy fatty liquors.  And that’s what this episode has taught us. It’s also reminded us how stubborn he is.  He refused to give up asking until he’d had his chips.  He sat on the edge of my plate and demanded them until he was given.

Posted in Animal stories, Bamber, Cats, Children's fiction, Dimchurch Spire and tagged , ,

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