She’s “the cat in the hen coop” from the previous post…
The guilty party exits the scene.
…and sister of Marmalade–both “gingers” of course, and never been separated; also known as “little Mother” because she had a litter at 11 months.
She’s fearless and is sometimes found in the meadow behind the house sitting in the centre of a circle of cows.
“I called you all here today….”.
She loves to drink from a source of running water and will balance on the rim of a sink, leaning in to drink from the swan-neck tap.
Once when we were having a new septic tank dug, the man with the digger sliced through the water mains and the back was flooded.
As we stood calculating the damage, a face peeked round the corner of the back door….
“I hear there’s been a bit of an accident!”
There’s always a silver lining …
She can be a solitary soul–expert at finding a quiet corner to curl up in.
"I want to be alone..."
She loves a clean-smelling cardboard box, a woolly pullover just back from the cleaners or a cherished bowl.
Most of her 12 years she’s been a plump pussy–too plump we’ve often worried–always keen to do a celebratory roll for you.
On an evening stroll up to the farm she’ll join with a headlong dash.
But lately the tail is down and she’s light to lift.
“She’s not well”, the vet said yesterday and prescribed her a course of antibiotics.
