(Catblogging interlude)
Cats always know how to make themselves comfortable.
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| Chia in her favourite spot. |
After the kitten dumped three breakable ornaments off the table, I gave up and put an old basket there. She adopted it right away.
The pink "blanket" is a sweater that I foolishly left draped over a chair back. Chia dragged it up to line her bed.
I had forgotten what it's like to live with a kitten. My last cat adopted me when he was already middle-aged, and lived a good, long life. A good, long, peaceful life. Chia is only peaceful when she's sleeping.
But she's good company when she's awake; we have interesting conversations. For example:
Me: Why are there shreds of something pink all over the carpet I just vacuumed?
Chia: Mrrrow?
Me: Good question, eh? Do you know anything about this?
Chia: Yawns, stretches, wanders off to the next room. Comes back dragging the remains of a sock.
Me: Oh. Good thing I found the other slipper, then, isn't it.
Chia: Mmmmmm. Drags the sock into a safe corner under a chair, shakes it a bit - just a warning to behave - then rushes out to attack the vicious monster lurking behind the mirror. I am well protected.
