(Or, how we came about our Prefix, Fergan)
Cats have
been a part of my life since
I was very little, and I cannot remember a time when I have not been
honoured to have at least one cat grace my house.
My family have
been involved in breeding
and judging show dogs (Chow Chows and Griffons) since the early 1970's,
and I must admit that since then the cats have taken something of a
back seat.
Then, one
Sunday morning back in the
Autumn of 1990, Brian and I were out walking our two Chow Chows, and
our lives were changed forever.
At the time, we
had just one cat, a black
and white moggie called Fergus.
He was called
this as at the time a group
called Deacon Blue had a song out, called "Fergus Sings The Blues".
Fergus did sing
the blues - he was a real
feral kitten, and spent the first two weeks of his life with us behind
the
washing machine
(he's okay now,
incidentally).
Anyway, on
passing the local churchyard
that morning, a small creature caught my eye scurrying through the
church grounds.
It was very small and
black. Brian was convinced that it was a rodent, however I thought it
looked like a
small kitten.
I vaulted over
the church railings, and
caught up with the small frightened creature. It was indeed a kitten, no
more that
six weeks old, caked in mud and
dirt. It fitted neatly into the palm of my hand, and we hurriedly took
it back to the
house.
We gave it a
small meal of cat milk and
mashed up kitten food, and cleaned it's face with cotton wool and warm
water. The fur
was caked in mud, and much
of the fur came off with the cotton wool. We were able to see
though
that the kittens true colour was
in
fact ginger and white, not black after all !
As the kitten
was not breathing properly ,
we 'phoned the emergency call-out vet, who agreed to meet us at the
surgery right
away.
A thorough
check-up concluded that the
kitten was female, and unfortunately had the full set of ailments - cat
flu, ringworm,
lice and conjunctivitis.
The vet didn't hold out much hope for such a young, sickly kitten,
however we
decided that she deserved a
chance, and told the vet to prescribe her all the necessary medicine.
When we got her
home that night, we
decided that she should have a name. She had ginger fur and she was an
orphan - it had
to be Annie !
There then
followed a long period of
quarantine, when Annie spent many long months in isolation in the spare
bedroom, away
from Fergus and the Chows.
She had to take countless amounts of medicine and baths,
however not
once did she protest or put up
a struggle.
The only time
she came out of the room in
that time was to make a periodic trips to the vet for a check up.
The last
ailment to clear up was the
ringworm. Various inspections by the vet with the Woods Lamp clarified
that the
ailment was still present,
however the week before Christmas that year we finally got the news we
had
been waiting
for....the all clear.
Annie was
allowed out of quarantine, and
instantly became the best of friends with Fergus (and the Chows !).
A few months
later, I was reading the
local newspaper when I notice an advert for a cat show, the Scottish Cat
Club
Championship show, held in my home
city, Glasgow.
I sent away for
the schedule and, on it's
receipt, entered Annie in various Household Pet Classes.
The big day
arrived. The vetting in was a
very harrowing experience (it doesn't get any easier, does it
However, Annie
passed with flying colours
- she was pretty used to vets by now.
We penned her,
complete with white
blanket, tray and water bowl, and nervously left the hall at 10:00am.
On arriving
back at lunchtime, we made a
bee-line for the results board. The Open Class was up - A second,
not bad.
The
Miscellaneous class results appeared
throughout the course of the day - Two firsts and a second. One of
her firsts was
the class for "top female
cat in Glasgow", an award which she still boasts about to the local
feline
population to this day.
We had an
excellent day and, more
importantly, we were hooked !
We went to many
more shows with Annie,
picking up many first prizes and a few trophies along the way, not to
mention a
fairly hefty quantity of Whiskas
and Arthur's courtesy of the various Household Pet classes
sponsored by
the cat food manufacturers.
In case you're
wondering, we only showed
Fergus once - he wasn't too keen on the idea !
During our
various forays around the
country with Annie, we took the opportunity of looking at the various
breeds of
pedigree cats. The British
Shorthairs in particular took our fancy (pardon the pun).
Shortly
afterwards, we bought our first
British, Vadwen Murdo MacLeod (17), from Dave and Wendy Easton
in Sanquhar,
South Scotland.
We bought our
foundation queens from the
late Mary Davis (of the famous Hunmar prefix,) from Lurgan, Northern
Ireland and
Jill Howe (from the equally
famous Coppins household, from Humberside, North England) , as well
as breeding a
few litters of our own.
You can see all
the gang on our Fergan
Hall of Fame page.
Annie has long
since retired from the show
scene, and happily whiles away the hours by keeping the local mouse and sparrow population under control.
And how did we come upon our prefix ?
In honour of
our two glamorous moggies who
started it all off - FERGus and ANnie !
