Day 8

I am thinking of asking Maid to stand in the naughty corner for half a day.

She had been on ‘human catnip’ called champagne which makes her do daft things. She picked me up as I graciously allowed her to cuddle me. She then blew a raspberry on my tummy and giggled as she told me I was filling out nicely, and then to add insult, she asked if I was having kittens.

Kittens?! Me?! I’m a career Diva, where on earth do I find time for kittens? I don’t even know how you make kittens, although I understand Tom cats are involved in some way. If that’s true then no thank you. The motley male moggies that trundle through the gardens here at Tom Cat Towers are simply not in my class! Besides, I don’t want to ruin my figure, kittens indeed!

Tubby tummy, that’s what she said, although Maid then tried to dig her way out of the hole by saying that the slight weight gain suited me.

Dumpty I ate my kibbles a little slowly this evening, as clearly gobbling then down in one go is making me put on weight! I took my time and made them last as long as I could.

Maid’s version

Dumpty is looking really good. She has put on a little of the weight which she needed. We had a cuddle - something I never thought would happen when we first had her as she was such a skittish kitty and would struggle out of my arms and hide under the sideboard in the lounge, worried blue eyes peeping out at me. 

Hugs are always at Madam’s pace and when she has had enough she’ll let out a little ‘mew’ of irritation and slither out of my arms in a huff.

It would have been lovely to have had her as a kitten, and then she wouldn’t have the issues she has now.

What gives me confidence in this trial is that Dumpty always comes first, and Purina call regularly to see that all is OK and if there are any problems - (nope, it’s going better than I hoped, knowing how pernickety Madam’s dietary demands can be). Before we were ‘approved’ for the trial we were contacted by their vet nurse who was quite in depth with questions about Dumpty and her health and well being.

A Morning Kiss

A morning kiss, a discreet touch of his nose landing somewhere on the middle of my face.
Because his long white whiskers tickled, I began every day laughing.

Janet F Faure

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