Over the years of our marriage we've had a succession of different animals share our home...but it's many years since we had a tiny kitten.
Hector...our last indoor cat...was about eighteen when he died two years ago...we'd forgotten just what engaging little creatures they are.
I've a gingham curtain hanging in front of the sink which Murphy was swinging off...leaping up and down with his tail waving back and forth...
A screwed up bit of cooking foil provided him with something to chase and catch...though I'm going to get him some of those little sparkly balls with bells inside...and a cat-nip mouse. And I like those fancy things with a platform as well actually...though he'd probably be happy enough with a cardboard box.
Himself...who has always declared a dislike of cats...had Murphy sitting on his lap this morning...then he cleaned out the carrier Marie loaned us and cleaned out his litter tray...I was slightly gob-smacked to be honest...
He does have a touch of diarrhoea...not Himself...Murphy...probably due to the change in diet and water...and the stress of leaving his mother and coming into new surroundings.
There are plenty of hidey places he can retreat to if it all gets too much...a basket with a cushion right in a corner...and there are spaces under the kitchen cupboards...he's explored those already...emerging with dust bunnies on his paws.
I thought Roger was a silly name...Murphy suits him much better.