St Samson
It was a lovely day yesterday, we had a pre-lunch swim and a sit in the shade watching the numerous butterflies and swearing at the flies (a particularly nasty little thing around at the moment, looks like a nic lacy winged thing but is very persistent and ticklish when it lands on you). I wandered back indoors to throw some bread and cheese on to a couple of plates for lunch.
I entered through the cave door and into the kitchen and was surprised to find a packet of Whiskas kitten food in the middle of the kitchen floor.
'That's funny' I thought.
Then I noticed the Tupperware box of home made ginger biscuits was also on the floor.
'Very odd'
Then it dawned on me. The kitchen windows were wide open and the fly screen was up in its roller blind. We had been cat burgled.
It was pretty obvious when I saw the kitten (now fondly (?) named Big Balls for obvious reasons) looking at me from the sofa. He was almost smiling and looked very comfortable and content.
Figgy and Misty's food bowls were empty and someone had evidently taken a liking to Whiskas Temptations with chicken and cheese as the pot was half empty.
BB suddenly realised that maybe I wasn't as happy to see him as he was to be snuggled on the kitchen sofa and he made a break for it upstairs to the lounge where he decided to roll around the floor looking cute.
It didn't work and I chased him out.
There was no sign at all of his mother who is now known as Scruffy.
I called in the reinforcements and Jon eventually found her looking quite bewildered up in the attic as if she had just been beamed there from outer space.
'I have no idea how I got here', she seemed to say. 'Could you please show me the way out and I'll leave you in peace'.
She, too, was quickly shown the door.
These two 'little dears' seem to be with us almost all the time now but we are still resisting adopting them properly. A serving or two of biscuits a day has done them the world of good and they look much healthier, but we still refuse to let them in the house, hence the break-in. Still, they sit on the kitchen doorstep for hours a day hoping for us to relent (especially since BB found the cosy sofa). I wonder who will crack first.
I found BB this morning curled up in an old kitchen cauldron that we intend to paint up and use as a planter one day.
I've heard of eye of toad and wing of bat, but a whole cat?
3 comments:
You know, once you've given them names.......
I really think you should find another name for Scruffy - she has very low self-esteem and such poor expectations of life, maybe a half-decent name would give her a new view of the world, she might have a personality change and become more independent. Now Big Balls... that is obviously a name he is proud of - makes a statement about himself!
Who's going to crack first? My money's on you, Sue. :-) Otherwise you'd be using the water pistol.
Don't think I haven't, Susie, even though I hated to do it. Unfortunately Scruffy seems to believe it is her lot in life to be sprayed with water several times a day.
But you're right of course, we are cracking. I even wormed them last night. They both seemed rather partial to a Vache Qui Rit sprinkled liberally with worming powder and were waiting on the doorstep for more this morning!!
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