They went out carrying the cat crate and came back with an empty crate. I can't find the orange thing anywhere.
During the week that he was here he was called a different name every day - today it was Squirt. Squirt was starting to get on my tail. He was certainly a gutsy little blighter. I did my best to look and sound forbidding but had to resort to a straight-right in the end. All that achieved was that he never approached me from the front and I had to get eyes in the back of my head (or end of my tail).
One of the names F joked about calling him was Simba. We have been following the story of a cycling cat called Nala.. you get the picture?
F tells me his new family plan to call him Simba. Now there's karma for you. He's smart and gutsy and has the potential to grow into a pretty special character - in his own space and without me cramping his style. So the name might be appropriate.
He's had a good teacher, but there is one thing he lacks that will never make him a Tigger....
I love a good vacuuming. Like everything I do that sets me apart (riding on Donkey, driving the gardener's van, playing spy games, and getting a vacuum bath) - all these things were my idea; I instigated them. I sidled up to F one day while she was cleaning and asked for a vacuum bath and it has been my special treat ever since. I'm not dead keen on my tail being sucked into the pipe, but apart from that its a great way to get rid of loose fur - especially when your fur coat is as thick and dense as mine.
F says special thanks to Dominic and Ruta and she hopes the three of you make a really special team ( I do too - thank you for taking the Wee Squirt away from my 'sphere of operation' and off my tail).
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