Welcome Bay Vet Clinic 58 Welcome Bay Road Tauranga

Maggie's Mews

One cat's views on the news...

For many years Maggie was an integral part of the family here at the Welcome Bay Vet Clinic.


It was with heavy hearts that we had to farewell Maggie in 2015.  But while she is gone, she is by no means forgotten - so feel free to check out Maggie's stories of her up bringing and tales of her antics down below.

get that camera out of my face!

The Mews...


  • 10th April 2014


    Lady Margaret's Memoirs


    Part II: The Early Years


    And so my tale continues.  And so does my actual tail, because I have a lovely, long feline tail.  But you are not here to hear about the hair on my tail.  You are here to hear the next chapter of my memoirs.


    For a long time I lived happily with my new family. The little boy loved me, and his parents adored me just as much.  And the older sister became quite fond of me too, even though she was still a touch jealous.  Fair enough, I say.  Who doesn’t want their own pet cat?  We are glorious creatures.


    At first the little boy had to bottle feed me, because I was too young to eat on my own.  During the daytime when the little boy was at school the staff at the Welcome Bay Vet Clinic would help out with making sure I was fed whenever I was hungry.


    Eventually I grew to be an avid hunter, and almost every day I would bring home food to share with my family.  They were never as grateful as they should have been.  They seemed especially unimpressed whenever I left my prey alive in the bathroom – just to prove that I really was bringing them the freshest of meals.  Of course I know they secretly enjoyed my contributions, because they were the most upset when I only left them a tail or a foot.  Humans can be so confusing sometimes.

    Me and my little boy - how he loves me so!

    My favourite place to sleep at home was in the hot water cupboard.  I very quickly learnt to open the door to let myself in because the humans insisted on closing it all the time.  It was almost as though they were determined to inconvenience me.  This also meant that when I let myself in, the door would inevitably be closed by someone, and I would become trapped inside.  Usually I would wake up in the middle of the night (because that’s when it was the best time to roam the neighbourhood), and I’d have to rattle the doors to alert my family that I was in need of assistance.  Someone would eventually stagger along to let me out – provided I made enough noise to wake them up.

    One time I did become really trapped.  Not in the hot water cupboard, but in the neighbours’ garage.  I found my way in, and couldn’t find my way back out.  I was gone for a few days and the little boy was really worried about me.  Unfortunately the neighbours were away too.  They had house-sitters, but the house-sitters didn’t have a key to the garage.  When they heard meowing coming from the garage, they rushed down to the vet clinic to ask for advice.  The little boy’s parents knew that I liked to find my way into tight spaces, so they wondered if maybe it was me that was stuck in there.  Eventually they called a kind man named “Lock Smith”, and he came and rescued me.  I never went to that house again.


    Despite all the humans’ oddities, we made it work.  And as I said before, for many years I lived happily with my family.


    In recent years, however, I have made my own way back to the Welcome Bay Vet Clinic.   But this is a story for another day.  In the mean time, please enjoy some photographs of my youth...


    Meow for now,








  • 20th March 2014


    Lady Margaret's Memoirs


    Part I: Before I Began


    A few days ago I  celebrated my 13th birthday.  Of course, I strutted about the clinic so everyone would get a chance to wish me health and happiness and congratulate me on how fine I look for my age.  I was disappointed by the distinct lack of birthday gifts, so I helped myself to a fluffy catnip mouse.  The nurses promptly told me off, claiming that I’d helped myself to the entire display.  They weren’t wrong – though at that stage they didn’t know that I had stashed them all behind one of the food shelves.  So I just stared at the nurses and blinked.  Cats are, after all, the masters of witty retorts.


    Nevertheless, as you all know, 13 is a pretty decent age for a cat – so I figured it is high time that I began work on my memoirs.


    Many of you come into the clinic and are interested to know who I am and how I came to be here, and I am more than happy to regale you all with the tale of my beginning….

    My story begins many years before I was even born.  It begins with a young boy who had always longed for a little tabby cat.  Many times this young boy asked his parents if he could have a tabby cat, and many times his request was denied.  His parents thought he was too young to have a cat, and they already had quite a few family pets.  But the boy was persistent and he kept on pleading with his parents to let him have a pet cat all of his own.  Eventually, his parents promised they would get him a little tabby kitten for his 8th birthday.  They thought that because his 8th birthday was still a few years away, the boy would forget all about it before then.  But the little boy did not forget.  Though he said no more about it, he looked forward to his 8th birthday with great anticipation.

    The years passed slowly, as they always do when you are waiting for something to happen.  It seemed like an eternity passed, but finally the morning of his 8th birthday dawned bright and early, and the little boy ran from his room to his parents’ and leapt onto their bed.  He excitedly told his parents that he was ready for his kitten now.  He told them that if it was a boy kitten he was going to call him Magnum, because he liked ice-cream.


    The colour drained from the parents’ faces.  They had thought that the little boy had forgotten all about their promise, and consequently they too had forgotten.  They looked at each other nervously, and quickly told the little boy that his kitten would be waiting for him after school.


    At this point the little boy’s older sister became quite indignant and demanded that she should also be allowed a kitten.  She was, as usual, ignored.


    [Editor’s Note: The older sister was a jealous sort who was frequently making such demands.  At this time she was already in possession of multiple pets, all of which her parents cleaned up after.]


    So the little boy was bustled off to school where he was so excited he could barely concentrate.


    Meanwhile, back at home, the parents were all in an uproar.  Where were they going to get a tabby kitten at such short notice?  They had no idea and they weren’t looking forward to how disappointed the little boy would be when he got home from school and found they had lied to him.  They couldn’t decide what to do, so eventually they gave up and went off to work.

    It just so happened that the little boy's parents worked at the Welcome Bay Vet Clinic, and not long after they arrived a farmer walked in through the door.  In his hand he held a tiny little tabby kitten.  It was only a few days old and somebody had tossed it into a bush near where he lived.  The vet took one look at the kitten and knew that it would be perfect for the little boy, so he called the little boy’s mother and she immediately fell in love with the tiny kitten.


    And that little kitten was me, Maggie.


    If there was one thing that the parents made very clear, it was that Magnum is not a very good name for a dainty little female kitten.  I, for one, happen to agree with them

    And that concludes the first chapter of my life.


    I shall continue with my memoirs at a later date – for now my paws are tired.  Unfortunately modern keyboards were not designed with feline fingers in mind.



    Meow for now,