Home yesterday and back east tomorrow, so I had loads to do today, but I spent most of it in the garden.
My excuse? Not Cat. Flatteringly, he wanted to be both with me and in the garden. I did some work outside and took dozens of photographs. Don’t worry, I’ll only include a few.
I collected Not Cat from the cattery straight after breakfast. The noises he made on the way home were quite extraordinary. It wasn’t a long journey, and he seems to have been increasing his vocal range over the past few days. I wish I had been able to record it. I’d love to pass it to Gareth Malone. Which reminds me, he has a new series starting soon. If you’ve never watched him work his singing magic, amend your ways. You shan’t regret it.
Anyway, back to Not Cat. Now silent on the carpet. When I arrived at the cattery and he heard my voice, he immediately stuck his head out through the catflap at the bottom of his little house.
He seems to like that catflap. He used it in preference to the door which was wide open, it being a warm morning.
Look, he seemed to be saying, a me-sized door. If we had one of these at home, I could come and go; indulge my new passion for The Great Outdoors, aka the back garden, and maybe across the street.
He can’t count of course. we’d need two; one from my flat into the landing, one out onto the street. And three would be better, as I nearly always have the first door inside the flat closed. And that would look rather silly.
At least should I ever move somewhere where I could install one, I know he understands its purpose.
In her bungalow, Mother had a catflap put in for Cat. I don’t know who derived more pleasure from it; Cat, from the freedom to go in and out, or Mother, whose delight when Cat’s head poked through it, announcing our arrival from London, brought a sparkle to her eye and a beam to her face.
Naturally, after that, greeting Cat took several minutes, a mutual love fest, endearments from Mother, rolling and purring from Cat.
I brought bags from the car.
I know my place.