I'd quite forgotten about kittens...how they lean precariously over the sink when Himself is washing up and pat the bubbles from the washing up liquid...looking quite astonished to have wet paw as a result...Molly comes into the bathroom while I'm having a shower and sits bolt upright on the edge...gazing at me with huge orange eyes...
She dives headfirst into cupboards and swats flies on the window-sill...leaps onto Murphy and makes him squeak...slaps Bobby across the face...and spends ages looking at her reflection in the microwave door...she'll suddenly fly across the floor...skidding to a halt when she sees a ball of foil to play with...now she's scrunched up on the router, pretending to be fast asleep...
Murphy is a total dote...he pounds my shoulder in the morning, purring as loud as a steam train...then taps my face with a soft paw and gazes at me...his eyes going slightly crossed. He loves to help in the kitchen, until this evening when Himself was chopping onions and poor Murphy sneezed and coughed and scrubbed at his eyes...he drinks out of the toilet bowl and his fur is thick and soft...
When I broached the idea of perhaps having a kitten to Himself, he was a bit scathing I suppose...but now he's as smitten as I am...even T, a lifelong disliker of cats, spent much time cradling either Molly or Murphy in her arms and talking utter rubbish to them...
Molly is feisty and terribly snooty...she stalks about with her tail held high and looks down her nose at us and most certainly at Bobby, who is in love with her...he trails about after her until she rounds on him and slaps his face...doesn't put him off though. He's quite distraught when he can't see her and wanders round looking in unlikely places, until she reappears. I swear he heaves a sigh of relief.
Once...long ago...someone asked what I'd truly like...I said a cat sitting on the windowsill among pots of scarlet geraniums...shelves of books to read...good music and a loving man.
It would seem that goal has been reached.
xx
A Quiet Saturday...
