Rainboat

Somewhere along our journey the canal changed from the Birmingham and Fazeley to the Coventry, but there was no obvious marker to say where.

We moored at a wonderfully rural location. Grass fields spread away from the water and a tall hedge of mixed native species ran alongside the towpath, occasionally punctuated by mature oaks. We could see a farm over the canal and hear trains in the middle distance running along the line to Lichfield. A couple of bridges away was The Plough; the heart of a wealthy hamlet called Huddlesford.

We visited the pub for lunch on Tuesday. It was pretty busy but we were seated in the dining room which lacked much of the atmosphere evident in the main area. When our meals finally arrived they were ok but far from hot. Will fed back to the waitress when they came to collect our plates and we left, a little disappointed.

On Thursday Vicky took a taxi from the pub car park to Lichfield Trent Valley train station. The taxi was over 10 minutes late, the train 15 minutes late and her train from Tamworth to Newcastle 25 minutes late but there were no cancellations, for which she was grateful. When she arrived at her Dad and Sarah's house she opened a letter that had arrived that morning. The gynaecology appointment she'd travelled up for the next day was postponed by 1 week. 😭 However, the rest of her stay went well, with a crafting class, another medical appointment, haircut, an early Mothers Day lunch with Sarah and Ali and some relaxing quality time with the family.

Meanwhile, back on Rainboat, Will hadn't seen Mr Whiskers since the day Vicky left. Nor could he be found when she returned. He hadn't been wearing his tracker because the hedges were so thick we thought he'd only lose it again. This was a big mistake. We extended our stay beyond the maximum 14 days allowed, tramping the towpaths calling his name and shaking his Dreamies jar. We shook out the cat bedding, left sardines outside and scattered sawdust from his litter tray under the hedge. We talked to boaters, residents and the farm. We flooded Facebook with 'missing' posters on cat and canal based groups, updated his microchip details to 'lost' and put his details into an online database the RSPCA uses to check any pets found. Vicky contacted the police, two local vets and the closest marina. We put up laminated posters near where we were moored, posted them through the doors of the 9 houses in Huddlesford and asked a tarmac business, The Plough and Kings Orchard Marina to display them.

The weather was wonderful, the location was beautiful and peaceful, we watched flowers coming in to bloom and leaf buds emerging from the tips of tree branches. Will cycled to nearby Whittington and Lichfield for shopping and pub lunches and we gave The Plough another go. To our delight, the food was excellent quality and hot this time (perhaps due to the presence of a very friendly and highly efficient older woman who seemed to be in charge).

We did all this but Whiskers' absence was always with us. Each bang on the stern had us hoping it was him coming home. We'd look for his eyes reflecting red in the torchlight when we took the dogs out at night.

In the end we had to leave. We were eeking out the last of the water in the tank and our two week permitted stay was up. Whiskers is microchipped and had a collar with Vicky's mobile number sewed into it. We feel we did all we could to get him back. We just hope that he chose to go wandering and will come back to civilisation at some point like he did at High Acton Farm.Les mer