Author Archives: shadthecat

Shad goes behind the scenes at the National Cat Centre

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There is no creature as curious as a cat.  And I have always been curious about what lies beyond the adoption pens at the National Cat Centre in Chelwood Gate.  The NCC is headquarters for Cats Protection and boasts the largest cat rehoming centre in the UK looking after anything up to 200 cats and kittens at any one time and rehoming over 1000 little cherubs every year.  John and I walked into the reception area excited to meet Danielle the Centre Manger for our exclusive behind the scenes tour.  John had brushed my coat before we left so I looked extra silky and I puffed out my chest fur as we were greeted by a smiling Danielle who started by introducing us to Poppy.  Poppy is a friendly black and white that has been in care for many months and now spends her days helping reception staff answer the phones and checking the corners for mice in the hopes of getting noticed by prospective owners as they wander through.  Just off reception is a meeting room specially designated for potential owners to sit and spend time with the cat they like before deciding if things could work between them.  It’s full of comfy chairs, ping pong balls and a window that lets you watch the birds land on the swaying branches of the trees outside.  Danielle told us about a cat called Marmite who lived at the Centre for a long time because he had FIV (feline immunodeficiency virus) and I smiled to myself as I imagined him in the meeting room greeting the lady that would later adopt him.

Main Entrance
Cafe and Shop
Reception

Reception

NCC Reception – Spherical Image – RICOH THETA

Poppy
Poppy

As we moved through the double-doors into the adoption pen wing, Danielle showed us the Enrichment Room which we could not enter as 6 year old Tabitha was in there undertaking a desensitisation programme.  This involves carefully exposing the cat to various situations in a controlled manner such as the sound of a vacuum cleaner, meeting a stranger or hearing a doorbell to determine which triggers cause the cat to have behavioural issues.  Tabitha has been rehomed and returned 3 times because she becomes aggressive so the desensitisation programme will help her become accustomed to normal household noises in the hope that she will soon find her forever home.  I had a quick word with her through the door while the humans were talking and she said she gets angry when she is rehomed because she doesn’t know anyone there and it makes her feel scared.

Danielle

NCC

We strolled through the pen wing admiring the cats along the way until we reached another double-door and Danielle asked us to dip our feet in a tub of wet sponge.  I was mortified, as a cat who is fastidious about keeping his paws clean, soft and dry, but it was necessary as part of the infection control procedures.  So I dutifully placed each of my paws in the disinfectant goo and looked up at John who knew exactly what I wanted and fetched a paper towel to dab my tootsies dry.  The next section contained the Admissions Wing where cats first arrive and the Cat Care room where newcomers get their vet checks, vaccinations and flea treatments.  I shuddered at the thought and we moved on to the Isolation Wing for cats who have unfortunately been diagnosed with infectious diseases such as flu, FIV and ringworm.  We were not allowed into the isolation wing for obvious reasons not least of all that we would have had to dress up in multiple layers of unattractive plastic aprons and pull-up boots which you can see being modelled by Boris.  My heart went out to the cats in isolation who often spend weeks receiving veterinary treatment and wearing the cone of shame before their symptoms improve and they are well enough to be put up for adoption.  We didn’t go into the maternity wing either out of respect for the feeding mums and mums-to-be who need peace and quiet while they care for their babies.  We did take a look at the operating theatres and were impressed with the great facilities, especially when Danielle said that Tuesdays to Thursdays the onsite vet team perform  6 to 8 surgical procedures a day.

Boris

No trip to the NCC would be complete without talking to one of the many dedicated volunteers who give up their time to support the Centre and have essential roles to play including collecting cats, cleaning pens, making enrichment objects and raising funds.  I got talking to a nice young lady who had just been sitting quietly with a nervous cat called Anya.  Anya had been found in a bin and needed a dedicated volunteer to spend time with, bonding and slowly building her confidence, learning to trust humans again.  I am so full of respect for this wonderful work that I gave the volunteer an extra firm head butt behind her knee and she rubbed my back in return.  Marvellous!

360 View – Of the homing corridor

We came to the end of our tour and Danielle walked us back out to reception as we discussed some of the key welfare issues facing cats today.  The importance of early neutering is fundamental to controlling unwanted cat populations and Danielle said that Cats Protection vaccinate kittens against disease at 8 weeks and neuter at 9 weeks to ensure healthy moggies all round.  The other big concern is the lack of microchipping in cats and Danielle looked sad as she told us about the many cats who become separated from their owners and brought in to care but end up being rehomed because their owners cannot be traced.  I told Danielle how worried I am about the cats and kittens that are sold cheaply or given away through online auction and sales websites.  Sadly many of these animals are destined for terrible fates.  But I was encouraged to hear that the Cats Protection advocacy team are working with some of the main online marketing sites to raise awareness of the plight of these animals so that improvements can be made.  I saw Tabitha on my way out and told her to be brave when she goes to her next home because there are some very nice humans out there who love animals and will understand her needs if she just gave them a chance.

Cats Protection’s Manifesto for Cats
Family Pens
Family Pens

 

 

Shad does the Snow Polo

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If they made wellies for cats, I would have worn them.  Unfortunately a soft knitted sock from your auntie might be a kind thought but is not going to keep your paws warm on the cold hard ground of an Austrian winter wonderland!  As you can see from the photos, the vista was like a scene from a Christmas card, with piles of snow balancing on the top of fences, bending the branches of thick evergreens and glistening in the distance.  This was the sight that greeted John and I as we headed out from the hotel in Kitzbuhel to watch the snow polo world cup.  Who knew there was a snow polo world cup?!

Kitzbuhel Snow Polo

John wanted to take me with him on his trip to Austria for a winter weekend break while he flexed his photography muscles at the 2016 snow polo championships and I enjoyed a rest from the photography business.  Ok let’s be realistic, it’s hard enough to operate the focus mode switch on my equipment with my thumb and dewclaw, but I cannot seriously be expected to do it in 2°c with 5 cm of snow on the ground.  So we both decided it would be sensible for me to stay on my blanket in the car while John stood at the edge of the pitch to capture the action.

The objective of polo is to score points against the opposing team by driving a ball into the opponents’ goal using a long-handled mallet.  It sounds simple but there are a multitude of complex rules to follow such as tapping the ball on the correct side in the correct way or ensuring that the player in the line of the ball or at the smallest angle to the ball has the right of way.  You would have thought that the horses end up crashing into each other or someone gets walloped in the eye with that big stick, but the rules are designed to promote the safety of the ponies and their riders and it seemed to work.

There were 3 players per team and it was all quite civilised as the players pushed the surprisingly large ball around the surprisingly small pitch.  I suppose the pitch can’t be too big or they’d be worn out very quickly and the ball needs to be reasonably sized (it was about the size of a cantaloupe melon) and brightly coloured red so it can be seen.  The ball is very light so the players need to strike it carefully so keep it on the ground.  The horses have special shoes so they don’t slip and there are about 5 horses per player, so one horse plays for a few minutes before being taken to a warm dry box while the next horse makes an appearance.  I was impressed at the agility of the horses as they were able to leap forward, stop and turn in an instant, and they seemed to anticipate where the ball was going and how the rider needed to play.  John got some great shots and my favourites show the glistening snow being scattered into the air under the hooves of the horses.  I’m amazed that John managed to operate the focus mode switch on his equipment considering the number of layers he had on!  But he’s not the type to let thermal gloves, a cotton layer, a fleece layer, a waterproof layer and an insulated beanie get in the way of a good photo opportunity!

Shad feels poorly on his holidays

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I’d like to start by wishing everyone a happy and healthy 2016.  Some people see in the New Year with a bang (noisy little blighters), others prefer to see the New Year in with decorum.  This year I saw it in with cystitis!  Not something I would recommend!  Sorry if that’s a little too much information for some people but all of us have bodily functions and I, even with my physical prowess, am no exception.  Don’t laugh at the physical prowess bit, I’m naturally optimistic!

Shadow

It all started when John took me to my auntie’s house for a few days while he went to Tenerife to stay with some friends.  My auntie’s house consists of John’s daughter and her family.  She is a lovely lady who looks after me well and I have been to stay there a number of times before without any problems.  But this time I got stressed which I think was a consequence of being around the energetic miniature human that appeared a few months ago and missing my best bud and partner in crime John.  I’ll spare you the details of my clinical symptoms but anyone who’s had a kidney infection will know exactly how I felt.  I kept going in and out of the litter tray, yowling and desperately trying to spend a penny, and I had a few accidents which is most embarrassing.

OnBoard

John was very worried about me when he got the call from his daughter to say that I was not well and a trip to the vet ensued.  £90 later I was given antibiotics and anti-inflammatories and the difference was amazing.  Oh the joys of being able to perform one’s ablutions without discomfort!  I am very grateful to my auntie for looking after me but I was pleased to get home to familiar surroundings where the dulcet tones of my brilliant dad helped sooth my troubles.  Although his tones were not so dulcet when he got the vet’s bill!

DSC_8836-Pano

I thought I’d cheer him up by sharing a few of his photos from Tenerife, Spain’s largest Canary Island situated 200 miles off the West coast of Africa.  It is dominated by a volcano called Mount Teide and covered in a reddish-brown rocky landscape dotted with pale green bushes, like the backdrop to Clash of the Titans from 1981.  While John visited a beautiful volcanic island with his pals surrounded by the Atlantic Ocean under a warm 20°c sun, I sat on the windowsill staring at the relentless pouring rain getting treats from my auntie while I nursed my hind-quarters!  So whatever you do this New Year, stay hydrated, try not to get stressed and enjoy the simple pleasures in your life.

Shad ponders the life of a foster cat

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As I walked in, Jenny cocked her head curiously before continuing across the floor to a small set of steps.  She climbed the steps and a glimpse of a smile came my way before she hopped on to a large round bed placed neatly in front of the window.  I watched her turn round 3 times before sinking into the soft fibre of the brown stripy cushion and curling up for her mid-morning nap.  I was intrigued to find out more about this modest moggy so I trotted merrily up to the reception desk at the National Cat Centre with John to ask a few questions and was greeted by a lovely lady with dangly earrings.  I managed to contain my urge to swing at the shiny swaying objects hanging from her ears and found out that Jenny was a 14 year old tabby and white cat currently residing at the National Cat Centre in Chelwood Gate while she waits for a new forever home.

I looked around for another peek at gentle Jenny snoozing in the corner when another shiny object caught my eye.  Mesmerised, I wandered involuntarily towards the brightly decorated Christmas tree intent on claiming the string of glistening baubles as mine.  Thankfully John recognised the hypnotic look on my face and scooped me up before any tinsel-related incidents could occur.  As we ambled through the Centre I met many other cats waiting to be re-homed, like Duke a young ginger boy who pranced in front of the viewing window and gleefully played with the toy snake suspended in his pen.  It got me thinking about the life of a foster cat and I decided to find out more about their experiences.

To my delight, one cat inhabiting the pen was a fantastic fellow by the name of Marshall.  As you can see his long fluffy black and white fur and handsome set of whiskers are a joy to behold.  But this was not always the case.  When he arrived in the pen he was covered in fleas and his previous owner had sadly done nothing to help him with his flea allergy which left him itchy from nose to paw and covered in scabs and sore bits.  Now that he was safe and warm in the pen, the fosterer’s first job was to provide good food and fresh water and a dollop of flea treatment to get rid of those pesky biters.  The next morning there were dead fleas all over the shelves and the bedding and even floating in the water bowl so the fosterer got the mop out again and gave everything a freshen up.  Over the next couple of weeks Marshall got to meet the vet a few times and following a course of steroids and antibiotics, his dull patchy fur transformed into soft touchable goodness.  He had become more outgoing and friendly since the scratching had stopped and he was so grateful about feeling better that he had started hopping on to his fosterer’s lap to say thank you.

 

The charity pay for any veterinary treatment required as well as the cost of food, housing, heating, medication, blankets, bowls, baskets and toys.  Fosterers and other volunteers dedicate their time interacting with the cats, talking, stroking and playing as well as arranging appointments, providing transport, fund-raising, cleaning, arranging adoptions and seeking expert advice where necessary.  It’s easy to care for a cat like Marshall who is relaxed and confident but it’s more challenging with a cat like Mia the tabby and white who was previously teased by children leaving her unpredictable and defensive.  It takes an enormous amount of patience and understanding to care for a cat that hisses and scratches you.  But every good fosterer knows that each cat is the product of what the world has made it and even the nervous or angry ones given time and space can learn to trust and show affection, even if it is in their own funny way.   I show my affection to John every day with a rub and a purr and the occasional whack on the leg as he walks by.  He thinks it’s annoying but I see it as quirky!  Cat Protection never give up on any of the cats in their care and firmly believe that there is a home for each and every one.  By the way, Mia is settling well in her pen and has calmed down considerably now that she knows no one will bother her and Marshall has found a new owner who adores him and will no doubt cater for his every need.  Well done Marsh!

Shad admires his bushy-tailed cousins

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There are a few wild cats that give me tail envy, notably the snow leopard with her thick silvery-grey tail or the sand-cat with his bushy black-tipped buff-coloured appendage.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of my own long, sleek and silky extremity but there are times when a plush heavy tail would be an advantage.  Like when I want to look tough in front of the tabby cat next door who has the audacity to sit on my front door step, or when I’m curling around John’s legs as part of my ‘have treat, will eat’ strategy.

Another tail of splendour belongs to the Scottish wildcat, a muscular striped feline that would be insulted if you said it looked just like the neighbour’s pet tabby!  The tail is thick and ringed with perfect bands of black and brown while its agility and resourcefulness epitomise the wild spirit of the Highlands that it calls home.  The wildcats in these pictures live at the British Wildlife Centre in Lingfield because they are critically endangered and form part of a conservation and breeding programme.  Their numbers in the wild have decreased due to deforestation, human persecution and cross-mating with feral domestic cats which produces hybrids and dilutes the true wildcat genes.

British Wildlife Centre
British Wildlife Centre

Last time I went to the British Wildlife Centre I found out that the wildcat is truly untameable and just like a tiger or a leopard it is biologically designed to be happiest in its natural environment.  I cannot imagine surviving outdoors, finding shelter and hunting for food, avoiding predators and caring for young.  Sounds like a lot of work to me!  When the keepers enter the enclosures, the wildcats keep their distance, prowling around the bushes with their ears pointed forward and their supple bodies ready to respond to the slightest noise or movement.  Suddenly their piercing eyes focus unblinking on the keeper as she takes a piece of meat from her bag and throws it into the air where the wildcat leaps swiftly up to catch it and takes it away somewhere private to eat.  I wonder if that’s why I take the food out of my bowl and put it on the floor, because some base instinct within me thinks I should run off with it.  I spent the rest of that day thinking how lucky I am to have all the luxuries that come with being a domesticated feline photographer and entrepreneur.

The Scottish wildcat has overcome many obstacles including lack of food (due to lower numbers of prey animals), habitat loss and human persecution and they have survived for five hundred more years than the British wolf and over a thousand years more than the British bear or lynx.  The last of the British lynx disappeared around 700AD, hunted to extinction for its fur.  As a fur wearing creature myself, I find the notion of humans wearing fur in this modern age to be cruel and unnecessary, and even more so the concept of exterminating an entire species for its skin.  Wear your own skin!

There are some fine specimens of the solitary and secretive Eurasian lynx residing in zoos and sanctuaries across the country as you can see from the photos.  I am excited to say that there is a group of conservationists dedicated to reintroducing the lynx back into the ecosystem of the British Isles in order to restore some balance to the ecology of the forests.  Their presence would help control the deer population which has grown exponentially due to top predators such as wolves and bears becoming extinct, thereby protecting flora and fauna from deer damage and bringing economic wealth to rural areas through wildlife tourism.  I personally would support the introduction of any animal with a tail so lustrous and bushy that it would be the envy of every pussy cat in the land.

Shad enjoys the water

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Born and bred in leafy Sussex by the sea, I love the ocean and I have an affinity with water.  Just to clarify, I don’t actually like getting wet but I enjoy dipping my paws in a puddle and flicking it or watch the starlings in the garden splashing around in the bird bath.  The only cats that don’t mind getting wet are tigers that will go for a dip to cool off in the summer sun or catch fish in a fast flowing river in Sumatra.  Personally I am far too fastidious about my fur to risk getting it wet, although I’m always happy to laugh at another cat that does!

I remember one time I was at my friend Muffin’s house and we both sat looking out through the patio door when grey clouds covered the sky and rain started to lash down in the garden.  Suddenly the cat flap clattered and her sister Tiffin appeared in the kitchen absolutely drenched.  It was as though she had shrunk in the wash and her skin was showing under the wet black fur that was stuck to her sopping body.  Clearly embarrassed, she quivered to shake the water off (I call this a body-wobble) until her owner wrapped her up in a towel and she was restored to her usual dry cottony self.

Another thing I admire about water is its power.  It is said to have mystical powers of healing and relaxation and indeed I have seen John enjoy many a calming hot tub in his time. I’m still in therapy!  But I’m talking about the force of nature, like the massive waterfalls of Yosemite Park in California or the spouting hot springs of the volcanic Geysers in Iceland.  A little closer to home is the sound of waves crashing against the shore and pulling the pebbles across the beach as the swell rolls back and forth.  This was the sound that greeted John and I over the weekend as we took one of our leisurely Sunday strolls along the seafront.  We had a suspicion that the kite surfers would be out given the strong winds so we headed to one of our favourite spots along the prom to find out.

I love taking shots of the kite surfers in action, the muscle tension in their bodies as they manoeuvre the kiteboard into the wind and the ferocity of the thundering waves that break on to the shore.  John and I are now friends with the surfers, having been here a few times before to take pictures, so they gave us a thumbs-up as we watched the forces of nature propel them across the water.  I also made an unexpected friend in the form of a chocolate brown and white spaniel trotting happily across the shingle.  As he came towards me I sat resolutely and fixed him with one of my looks of grandeur, but as he came closer my nose twitched and my lip curled under another force of nature, the musty smell of a damp dog!  Despite my displeasure at the pong of salty wet woofer, he made me laugh running backward and forwards in front of me, wagging his tail and generally being a buffoon.

Shad does the Fleet Air Arm Museum

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John is fond of all things aeronautical and used to work in the aviation industry where he spent a significant amount of time in airports.  He most recently worked in airport automation (installing IT solutions for baggage handling and check-in systems) but started off his airport duties as a ramp technician, loading and unloading commercial airliners, refuelling, and waving around those little orange flags that guide the aircraft as they taxi on and off the runway.  These days he tends to keep his hands clean and stick to admiring planes from a distance, although he can never resist pointing out an Airbus A380 or a Boeing 747, or telling me something about planes that have recently retired or become operational.  So if John ever asks you if you’ve experienced a Garuda Indonesia, a Mexicana or a China Eastern, he is referring to airlines not restaurant dishes!

Our trip to the Fleet Air Arm Museum in Somerset was a real delight for John as it combined 2 of his passions in life – photography and aviation.  The journey in the car was long but I didn’t mind because an extended nap was called for to recharge my batteries in preparation for our tour of the halls that hold the assortment of aero engines, drawings, models and military and civilian aircraft on display.  The Museum is Europe’s largest naval aviation collection and stores thousands of objects including examples of the first manned kites towed behind naval vessels, to helium filled airships and modern Sea Harriers.

As I stepped in to the hanger, I looked up to see an enormous fuselage of a modern jet plane hanging from the high ceiling and on the ground was a Hawker Sea Fury – a single seat fighter bomber used by the Royal Navy in the Korean War (1950-1953).  It made me think about the sadness of war and the brave individuals who defend their country’s freedom and pay with their lives.  May be one day there will be no more fighting and humans will be truly humane to each other and to animals.  As the Dalai Lama once said, ‘my religion is simple, my religion is kindness’.  I gave a little nod of respect to the memory of all those who have felt the devastating effects of conflict and continued my adventure through the museum.

There were helicopters taking off outside and staff working meticulously on restoring custom-built engines and the curved blades of a propeller.  My favourite piece was the Concorde 002, the second prototype of the Anglo-French invention which first took off in April 1969 and achieved supersonic speed on 25th March 1970.  Her test career lasted 7 years and she was placed on display at the Museum in July 1976.  I sat under the delta-shaped wing while the museum guide explained how the aerodynamic centre of pressure moves rearwards during the change from subsonic to supersonic flight and the implications this has for the aircraft’s balance and handling.  It was fascinating but a tad too technical for a feisty feline like me so I snuck off to explore the cockpit nearby while John listened to the physics lecture.  I was having a lovely time playing with the knobs and buttons when it all got a bit embarrassing.  The museum staff had to fetch John because I was allegedly misbehaving.  He came to pick me up rather sheepishly and we beat a hasty retreat!  It wasn’t my fault I got a bit over excited given all the interesting things there were to sniff, jump on and slide down!

 

Shad shoots the Taekwondo

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Like millions of domesticated pets across the Western world, I have spent many a happy moment sitting on the sofa with my owner on a lazy Sunday afternoon.  Although unlike those pets, I prefer to think of John as my responsible guardian / business partner.  Anyhow, many of those happy moments were spent fudo-dachi with John watching martial arts films such as Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon featuring charismatic film star Chow Yun-Fat or Fist of Legend with famous actor and martial artist Jet Li.  Just so you know, fudo-dachi is a martial arts move and means ‘immovable stance’ in Japanese.  That’s the only martial arts move I can perform but I do it well!  I leave the foot-sweeps and lotus kicks to the experts.

The Regional Arena in Manchester was host to 250 of these experts in October for the 2015 World Taekwondo Federation Grand Prix and John and I were invited to attend by our good friend and professional photographer Mark Pain.  This was my first real life display of Taekwondo and I have never seen anyone kick so high as the contestants bobbed around each other on their mats.  They were agile, nimble of foot and fast, delivering swift kicks to each other and seeming to love it.  The human fascination with combat baffles me but from a purely athletic point of view it was impressive to witness.  We were told that many of these athletes were contenders for a spot in Rio 2016 for the summer Olympics but with 3 days of competition ahead of them, they would have to work for this privilege.

 

The contest matched pairs of participants together in 8 weight divisions to kick each other repeatedly using a combination of flying kicks (known as the ‘roundhouse’), axe kicks (heel drops to the head, yes that’s right you heard correctly) and the fancy spinning hook kick that you see Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee perform on the big screen.  The head, neck and torso are acceptable strike zones and points are scored for landing blows to the opponent while points are deducted for illegal moves such as grabbing, pushing, throwing or attacking with a hand or knee.  I’m still reeling from the axe kick which involves lifting your leg straight up to your forehead then slamming it down on to the opponents head.

Despite being exposed to this exhibition of resilience and strength, I was sure that my toughest move that night at home would be wrestling my teddy to the floor and throwing him in my water bowl.  After all, I am a peace loving cat who is even kind and friendly to the belligerent pigeon that taunts me on the fence in the garden as I wash my whiskers after dinner, strutting up and down with his chest puffed out!  May be I should show him I mean business by practising a few jiu-jitsu moves in front of the window, after my nap of course!

Shad storms the Aston Hill Mountain Bike Mash Up

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I have no idea what a mash-up is but I can tell you that mountain biking is not for the faint-hearted and certainly not for a cat of my delicate disposition.  I got my first clue when the organisers rounded us up for a safety lecture before the event began and I got my second clue when we walked along one of the tracks that the bikers would be descending later and I counted 5 vertical drops along the way.  When John asked me the previous night if I’d like to head up to Buckinghamshire for a mountain biking event in the beautiful woodland of the Chiltern Hills I thought it was an opportunity not to be missed.  At no point during this conversation did he say that great valour would be required.  I think it was the speed with which the riders came down the hill coupled with their proximity to the photographers that set my feline senses on edge.  But I’m a daring black cat with bravado (plus I’ve always got John to rescue me) and I’m plucky enough to rise to any challenge (as long I’ve got John to rescue me)!

Aston Hill Bike Park is a dedicated site for mountain biking located in Wendover Woods on the ridge of the Chiltern Hills, a designated area of outstanding natural beauty.  It features a number of cross-country and downhill runs for beginners through to advanced riders, the more difficult routes being named ‘black run’, ‘root canal’ and ‘ricochet’.  (This was my third clue)!  The tracks are regularly changed to keep things interesting for the riders and the trail designers work closely with the Forestry Commission to ensure that the nature of this beautiful wooded landscape is not compromised by this bizarre human fondness for a burst of adrenaline.

The photographers took their positions as someone blew a loud horn (my fourth clue) and I took a few steps backwards when the sound of tyres bouncing across loose gravel crackled through the forest.  As the noise got louder, riders emerged from the dense canopy of trees down the narrow sloping trails and my nerves were soon forgotten as the riders tore past looking euphoric, some waving madly, others gripping on to their handlebars for dear life.  Then the RAF team cruised past us with apparent ease, twisting their wheels in the air as they flew off the ramps and skidding around bends with their knees scraping the ground in what they call a ‘bar dragger’.  Now I know why one of the trails is called ‘surface to air’.  It was all very high-energy and far more exhilarating than I could have anticipated.  John and I wandered back down the hill to the finish area to talk to the riders as the dust settled and they got their breath back and some of them were as young as 8 years old.  Audacious little tykes looked tired but happy and I was overcome with an urge to nap.  While John carried me back to the car, I planned my marathon napping session for the journey home to the finest detail including position, timing and dream cycles.

Shad reflects on his work

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Being a cat who likes to spend a large proportion of his free time pondering life’s mysteries and reflecting on his role in the ecosystem, I am a firm believer that there is always something more to learn from being alive, providing of course that you choose to live as opposed to simply survive.  Whether it’s learning how to improve your chocolate chip brownies or trying to understand why your cat swipes your legs as you walk past him, life always has more to teach those of us who will listen.  One way to learn is through experience but as Oscar Wilde said …”experience is the hardest kind of teacher, it gives you the test first and the lesson afterwards”…  So John and I often opt for an easier method of learning which involves going to school.  Luckily it’s not the kind of school where the teacher yells at you for not pulling your socks up and you get essays for your homework, it’s the Mark Pain Sports Photography School.

Mark Pain is an internationally recognised award-winning sports photographer and an excellent teacher who is well connected in the world of sports having covered many major events from the Olympic Games to the Ryder cup.  John and I have joined Mark for many of his sessions as a way to improve our photography skills and seek out new opportunities to shoot different subjects in fresh surroundings.  Sports photography is inspiring because competing athletes feel joy, anger or sadness at their performances and the challenge for the photographer is to capture those emotions and convey them to the viewer.  Like the look of pure concentration on the diver who glides gracefully into the water or the beam of satisfaction on the player’s face as the golf club swings through the best shot of the contest.

Low angle shots give us a different view on the world and these are easy for me to capture because I am so close to the ground.  Mark taught me this technique when John and I attended a mountain bike event earlier this year and it was particularly effective because the riders would hurtle down the slopes and fly off the ramps at interesting angles which when shot from ground level looked even more dramatic.  Well the high-flying moves certainly looked exciting to me as I craned my neck to watch the mud-covered bikers soar fearlessly above me and land with a thud and a skid a few feet down the track.  Honestly you have to be quite brave as a feline photographer and I’ve had many a broken claw and fur loss incident as a result of my dedication to camerawork!

As I write this blog John is in Manchester with Mark working hard to get some first-class shots as official photographers for the Taekwondo 2015 World Championships.   It’s a long weekend away so I decided to stay at home and contemplate my existence while my aunties (that’s John’s daughters and extended family) cater for my needs until John returns.  I got distracted flicking through some of the photos John and I took at the rugby match we attended with Mark over the summer, thinking about the clever techniques Mark taught us to capture the burly players way up the other end of the pitch.  I started imagining the focus and the thrill the players must have felt as they grunted and bull-dozed their way towards the goal posts with the ball in their hands.  I lunged, I scored a try, then I woke up and realised that I was having a dream and had accidently put my teddy bear in the water bowl.  Yes that’s right I have a teddy and I’m not ashamed to admit it!  I dragged him out of the water and popped him on the radiator so that he would be dry and fluffy once more, ready for snuggles that night.  After all, I need something soft and warm to sleep on until John comes home and I can use his belly as a pillow.

Mark Pain Sports Photography School.