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.
It’s six o’clock on a fair August evening, and the kid had been shut inside again. Arthur and Percy can hang out and ablute in peace, without fear of being pounced upon by small and enthusiastic kittens.
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Freyja has had her jabs, her microchip and is allowed out (supervised as present, as she is still a mad little kitten). She has discovered that the garden is just absolutely full of fun things; Arthur is at pains to point out that he is not one of them.
It was once the site of his Ancient Hunting Grounds, but Arthur is adaptable and has therefore seen fit to oversee the building that is going up next door. Only Stan is working next door today. Arthur is familiar with Stan and he can therefore be trusted to work for a few hours unattended, unlike other strange and unfamiliar building persons. Later this evening Arthur will go on a site inspection, just to check all is as it should be.
I am multi-tasking: I am picking black currants, and I am stroking Arthur. This is not the most efficient way to pick black currants, but it makes Arthur happy.
Arthur is also multi-tasking: he is being stroked and he is also being happy. He experimented for a while with the concept of sharpening his claws on my bottom at the same time as the other activities, but my sudden surprised yelps were intended to suggest that this was taking efficiency one step too far.
How to draw a moving target! This morning Freyja ran around, and I attempted to draw what she looked like. The result: a series of ridiculously cute scribbles. It is probably impossible to make a drawing of a kitten not look ridiculously cute, can’t be done, it’s in the proportions. On the other hand, here also is Arthur’s best Paddington Bear Stare, delivered from the safety of the dining room table. The boys still do not approve.
It’s been a while since Arthur found a box that was just right, but he likes to keep in practice. This one was acceptable yesterday evening. Today it has fallen out of favour again…
Arthur’s springtime look.
Arthur has a very peculiar sleeping position which he occasionally likes to adopt. It looks as if he has fallen asleep in the middle of cat-yoga (an activity which is is also a fan of). Either that, or it was a valiant effort to occupy both towels at once.