The central heating is not yet on, though I’m inclined to think it might be soon, but the log burner has been in good use for the last couple of weeks. Percy has discovered a long-lost-love: the beanbag fell out of favour some time ago but its strategic placement in front of the log burner has won his heart.
Wormy is still around, but currently in favour is Catnip Dynamite, a highly bitable stuffed cloth cylinder attached to a rope with a bell on the end. It is the best thing ever for dragging up and down my studio floor at high speed and then biting. The way to get the better of it is apparently to go into attack mode whilst at the same time attempting to stand one’s head. This catches it out every time.
Meanwhile the Kickeroo (bought for Sergeant Stripes by Tony who had clearly forgotten the Sergeant’s diminutive stature) has become definitely and firmly Percy’s, and he is guarding it. He attacks it with enthusiasm on a nightly basis. It looks a bit like Arthur, but that is only coincidence. Probably.
A couple of ‘kitten action’ sketches. The top left one was actually a few days ago, young wobbly-kitten-walking. Now we have progressed: that disembowelling hold and kick is hard-wired, and Sgt. Stripes is practising on Wormy, who seems to enjoy it. Both sketched from a moving kitten, so highly polished drawings are not to be expected…
I have an electric propagator. It is basically a plastic tray with an electric heater beneath its surface, so that when you put pots of seeds on top the steady gentle heat warms the soil and encourages the seeds to germinate. It hasn’t been used much this year, but it’s being put to good use now to help bring on one very tiny, plump cat-seedling.
Sergeant Stripes came to us yesterday at less than 4 weeks old. It is possible that some very awful people abandoned him, what is certain is that some very caring people rescued him at what was probably a week old and that at the same time a seagull was deprived of his dinner.
‘Stripes’, now promoted to Sergeant Stripes, is ginger and white with a sooty tail, but has so far not stayed still long enough for a portrait sitting for me to put in his colours, so you will have to believe me.
Tomorrow, he will be 4 weeks old.
Percy is STARVING* and is expressing his anguish with all of the waggling his considerable ears can muster. He can keep this up for the full our between now and actual cat teatime at 5pm, his protest punctuated by a strident “MwaaaH” and finally a gentle claw in the backside.
* For the benefit of cat-lovers, I should add that no cats were in fact starved to make this drawing, that there is actually still food in Percy’s bowl, and that as soon as this sketch was finished I walked Percy to his bowl and he began to tuck in, thereby ensuring me about 20 minutes peace. Percy likes me to accompany him to his dinner bowl at regular intervals throughout the day.
Merrymakers, make merry quietly.
Revellers, revel softly.
First Footers, please enter in your slippers.
See in the New Year for me please, and bid it wait until breakfast, when I shall be ready to greet it.
Arthur is so tiny and fragile, he feels the best place for him would be in an egg box. It is fortunate therefore, that he fits it so well.