If I had instant access to emojis I would add that one here. Imagine it, OK ?
I have given the small creature the wrong name.
How could I ?!
Well, I did.
Line drawn under.
Now for the new name !
Australia’s marsupials are, by and large, extremely appealing animals; and the bettong is definitely amongst ’em.
So my new small friend and companion –
– who is NOT spoiled already, has, with our entry into Eastern Daylight Saving Time, become Mr B. Bettong. Or, if you prefer, B. Bettong, Esq., NFP. *
However, seeing as how we never use our moggies’ formal names, he is forever to be known as
and don’t you forget it !
(Don’t you just love it ?!)
* Neatly Folded Paws
… sitting in my recliner chair with my laptop on my lap (strangely), and Someone decides it’s HIS laptop:
Dunno how long he would’ve sat there, but I feared what keys were being pressed under his furry little (_|_). And I was right:
for although it was easy to shut down all the windows he’d opened and get out of aeroplane mode, I found I could no longer type and had to re-start the PC. Ah, life with A Very Young Cat ! :)
Then he simply got onto my lap (sans laptop) and looked at me. So I picked him up in my arms, and after about two seconds’ stiffening, he relaxed completely, curled up and went to sleep. I sat there holding him for 1½ hours !, during which time he did change position, but only to burrow his little face into the crook of my right elbow.
Gosh, life’s tough with A Very Young Cat. :)
Eventually I woke him up, telling him that I was hungry; and we both had some breakfast. He managed to leap from the laptop
onto the dining-room table and sniffed at my toasted pita with butter and marmalade, wanting of course !) to lick the butter off; but I selfishly didn’t let him. Pfuh !
So it was obviously time to play:
and now we’re both exhausted. Sort of.
How can a wee moggy be so GAME ?
I have four photos for you: the first two taken out at the ever-so-pretty house in which Kaye and Scott live with their … ahh … tribe of animals.
They have three dogs of their own and a cat – a long-haired tortie; and for the last while this number has been augmented by five foster cats: Annie (the only female), Tabby, Scotty, Giorgio and Wobbles.
You see what I mean !
You should SEE how these moggies are looked after ! If I could believe that all the cat fosterers in the country looked after their charges as well as this, I would be a very contented old fart. I need scarcely add that Kaye and Scott’s own animals are … hmm … doted on ? Spoiled ? Members of the family ? All of those. :)
My very kind and generous-with-her-time-and-car friend J was able to sit on the floor à la Japanese as does Kaye whenever she’s in their room (the toys ! – the tunnels ! – the rugs she’s made for each ! – the stick-on window platforms and the climber towers !), but I can’t do that because there weren’t two large men to heave me back onto my feet. We spent an hour and a quarter in there with them all while I dithered and became anxious about various aspects of future cat-care. And then I decided: the youngest and the most feisty, as well as he who’d been there the least time, is “Wobbles”.
Is he good-looking or is he good-looking ? How would YOU like to be held onto by a huge old broad, right up there off the floor, eh ?
So J drove us home, after Kaye insisted that I take some of the food he’s used to eating, in case he needs the continuity for a while. Oh – plus a blanket she’d made for him, and a toy tail on a stick. Kaye was in fact distressed at being parted from him, horrible woman that she is; but happy that the poor little bugger is going to be clutched and kissed and loved on for the rest of his days.
So. We got here and I carried him inside. He leaped out of his carrier and went instantly into EXPLORE ! mode. He walked everywhere within the unit, not fazed by anything; and during this Excellent Adventure he went into the bathroom and used the kitty-litter and came out again, as if he’d been here for a week ! Then he sat in the sun for a bit by the door out into the side yard:
and then, having discovered the thrill of the bottom of the vertical blinds in my front window and played there for a short while, he decided it was time for a nap. So he jumped up on the couch, briefly inspected the soft cat-couch sitting on one end of it, and opted for my tunisian entrelac throw:
But as of 15′ ago, he has been curled up and sound asleep ! And I can’t get another shot because (1) I’d wake him if I got nearer, and (2) I can’t shoot across the big band of light coming in from the side door.
There will be Other Occasions. [grin]
And this I hope very much indeed will not cause Kaye any unhappiness, but I am changing his name. It is now Cam.
Two linked reasons:
- my very favourite author of all times is Peter Temple, who wrote the totally sublime Jack Irish books from which the dreadful TV series was made;
- my very favourite actor for now is Aaron Pedersen, who played the character of Cameron Delray in all the Jack Irish books. And he was known as ? – yes, Cam.
Cam has already stolen a chunk of my heart. I wonder how long it will take before the rest is gone ?