Wednesday, September 10, 2008
I can has mew
Well, this is "Florence" (name to be decided). I picked her up from the Cats Protection League last night. She was dignified in the cab until we ran out of road and I had to walk her the last half mile. By the time I got to the flat she was wailing like a crashed ambulance.
Five minutes later, though, and she was eating. And didn't really stop. The other thing I've discovered is that she's an explorer. She spent last night trying to solve the Da Vinci Code using my furniture, with occasional complaints that the Knights Templar had stolen her food.
She even waited for me to go to bed, and then curled up next to me. I coughed.
Florence: Are you going to do that all night?
Me: Yes, a little, but I love you.
Florence: Cool. I'll be in the living room. Byeeee.
There was a point when I thought she was happily asleep up at the bottom of the bed, but then realised it was just a jumper. I has a momentary panic of "where is she?" followed by the reassuring rattling of bookshelves and the sound of paperbacks tumbling to the floor.
She has the face of a weary musketeer, and thinks that Breakfast Time is six am. She also has only one mew, the sound of a heart breaking with unbearable misery. It's like being woken by Ingmar Bergman.