I have three cats. two are 12. one of them has always been moody and irritable. she has never really been affectionate to anyone but me. she's black and scrawny. makes funny noises - a kind of quack where her miaow should be, and a gravelly sound instead of purring - the result of her having a malformed lung. she's a grumpy old bag.
Last night S finished packing his things for the 'residential course' he's on this week. (to be fair - I'm fairly certain there is a course, it's just the matter of where he'll be 'residing' that seems a little off!) it's casual dress, so he included (and I even ironed for him)(?!) his favourite shirts from White Stuff and Fat Face etc. He included the new formal shirt and tie he'd bought, unprompted and unsupervised (if that's not a clue something's amiss i don't know what is!) etc etc - small homecrafted additions from me he'll find later. Anyway, he leaves the bag downstairs by the front door.
I love my cat.
As his taxi rolled up in the early hours of the morning, he comes running back up into the bedroom, flinging stuff out of drawers and into a holdall.
She's pissed all over the bag, all over his clothes.
I fucking love my cat. Here she is earlier this morning. Taunting her brother who has somehow got himself shut outside.
posted by dodo @ 12:02 pm
2 Comments:
As I said earlier has a sense of karma about it!!
Will speak later in the week and you know where we are.
XX
Lol, what a clever cat!
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