I realise that I have been veh quiet, but then, it has been Christmas and dark and things, and you most probably werent reading anyway. Still. I knew I wasnt going to be allowed to write anything else until I had made some attempt to update you on the kittings. So.
I will hereby introduce them, and then move on to other things – because this is NOT going to turn into a catblog – and then I will try and give a kupdate at least once a week, because some of you people? You honeys are cat-CRAZY, I tell you.
So, pls, meet my kittens:
Squirrel is a beautiful, beautiful cat. Sleek and silky, with beautiful big eyes, she is all cat, and will become more so, I conjecture, as we go on. She arrived, we didnt know what to call her, but being grey and quite long and pointy, we called her rabbit for a minute. Then we thought she was a boy, called her Pedro, then, when she got what her sister had and we went back to the vet for the third time he suddenly decided he was a she, so we spent a while trying to think of names of famous transexuals, couldnt – or none that suited her anyway.
She ended up Squirrel because it suits her, but is most often called Baby, anyway – not after the thing they quite clearly represent, but because thats what I call everyone I have any vague affection for.
She sleeps where she wants to sleep, which makes it all the more lovely when she chooses that place as on you. She eats when she wants to eat, which is pretty much all the time, and if she wants to hide under the futon in the spare room and not come out when you make the food noises, she will, and that is just that.
She will show you love if she feels like it and only then. Well, then or if you bribe her with salmon, which works for me.
Happily for the strict diversity quotas announced for all liberal middleclass housepets. We have may be gay. We are positively reinforcing her decision with pro-gay television (well, Will and Grace was on a minute ago, and Ive just flicked past Ellen, so I should think shes taking all that in, she has very big eyes after all).
Whatever the case, we are determined to support Widget whatever path she may chose bearing in mind its going to make very little difference in a couple of months once shes had a small proportion of her love-organs removed anyway. And besides, she probably isnt hot for women-cats. Or women. In all likelihood, she may just be hot for my tits alone. Or thats the way it feels.
She is a small fuzzball, always the smaller of the two, and decidedly the most sickly when they arrived, shes now almost as big as her sister with black splodges on her brown back, is just an ODD little moggy, frankly. We dont know the parentage of either of them – though the mother is the same, the father may not be – but we are guessing that she is approximately 60% Cat and approximately 40% Crazy.
The Widget cat is developing a definite behaviour, and its a behaviour of:
a) being fast asleep
b) waking up, realising that one of us is in the room, and
c) running up to them, or just running straight UP them, purring loud enough to be heard in Peru
d) settling her kittenself on a chest, and nuzzling her kitten nose against a human nose for a while
e) then standing and kneading the cleavage of her host for up to and above ten minutes before falling asleep, being cute, then rather predictably rolling off. If the host doesnt happen to have said cleavage, the kitten-rolling will occur earlier.
The curling/kneeding takes the form of:
1) Standing on the right breast, kneeding the left breast for a while and then trying to curl up on the right side of the chestfor approximately a minute, in a place that, for her host, is inconvenient but not deadly.
2) Deciding herself to be slightly uncomfortable, suddenly standing up, sticking her tiny kitten nose up her hosts right nostril, doing a complex three point turn and then
3) Repeating step one, swapping right for left and left for right at every appropriate juncture.
4)Repeating step two, again substituting right for left,
Steps 5 to a eleventyjillion) Repeat as above.
THEN and this is a doozy right here:
Eleventyjillion and one) Placing one paw on each breast top and paddling both simultaneously.
Which yes, sounds really cute, doesnt it?
But do you know where this puts her ARSE?
So anyway, eleventyjillion-and-two) having forced her host to, repulsed, sit with their head pressed against their spine, then she lies down in a little ball directly beneath my chin, right in the middle where theres not much to hold her up. She manages to stay taut enough to stay up there for approximately fifteen seconds before, after having spent all that time finding Nirvana, rolling straight off it.
I already have her pegged as the comedy kitten.
Those are my kittens. They say hello.
No, they dont, of course, because they are not people, speak no English, and care little for blogging. Like most people, in fact. But not people. Cats. There will be no anthropomorphising around here, guvnor. Well, not much.
Next Something that is not vaguely cat-related!!!