Dadsy is keen for grandkids, and is not particularly subtle about it, much to the delight of eldest bro's gf and myself (note: also to gf2, of whom dadsy seems determined to set up with middle bro).
He has found his own way to combat this - by adopting random strays from around the neighbourhood. He was on leave at one stage and was wandering around the back yard when he came across a cat in the compost bin (it should be noted that he (and middle bro) are actually allergic to cats - anything with shedding fur) and called out "Hullo, Mr Cat!".
I'm not entirely clear how long this carried on for, but soon enough we were getting regular updates on Mr Cat every Monday night at family tea. How dadsy would spot him and ask him how his day was, how he thought Mr Cat was, how he had gotten closer to Mr Cat, how he had spotted Mr Cat, how Mr Cat talked back to him when he asked how his day was - his meow was the meow-iest he'd ever heard and so he must be a very smart cat.
Then, it was Mr Cat had been near the house, then in the shed, then in the house, then eating Elvis' food, then on the kitchen bench - but he'd always flee when anyone was near.
Then he'd been sleeping on the outside table. Then they bought him his own little cat tent. And his own little cat plate. And his own little cans of cat food and boxes of dry food. And his own worm tablets, snuck into his meals.
Last week, dadsy showed me how smart Mr Cat was, to come when he was called. He walked outside with the box of dry food and called out: "Mr Cat!" *shake box of food* "Meow!" *shake box of food* "Mr Cat!" *shake box of food "Meow!"
And there he was, shiny cat eyes in his cozy cat tent.
Somewhere along the line he has graduated to "Dr Cat" - he worked out that the laundry door doesn't shut properly and that he can let himself into the laundry through the dog door and then into the house by hooking his little hand under the door.
This has been an exciting few days in the developing domestication of Dr Cat. On the weekend one of my cousins was over and gave him a pat (he grew up with cats, whereas we have always been a dog family) and last night we all got to have a pat - he's a thick haired cat, very soft and quite vocal and friendly.
On Monday night, we all headed out and all gave him a pat (some with more success than others) and then tried a few times to let him in through the 'people door' when we noticed him more than once staring through the screen.
Tonight, middle bro told me that he sits in the shed while youngest bro plays internets with one hand and pats Doctor Cat with the other.
I find it quite hilarious that my family have just managed to adopt a pet in this manner - to the point where while we were looking at properties out bush on the weekend, dadsy was musing about how he would have to trap Doctor Cat and build him a little cattery in his new home.
Somebody give the guy some grandkids already!