It rained all night. Every time I woke up, usually because Not Cat bounced on me, but once because he had a poo and the smell filled the boat, demanding urgent attention, I could hear the rain beating down It was quite warm though, and I was pushing my extra covers away.
When morning came, and Not Cat was asleep across my legs, it was quiet. The boat rocked gently. I lifted the curtain and saw blue skies. I stretched. Not Cat opened his eyes and stretched too, and watched me. I invited him to say good morning. He continued to watch me. I closed my eyes again.
A while later, I woke properly. Not Cat rubbed my nose with his. He wanted to go out, but the deal was he had to wear his new harness. He went back to bed. I went over to the shower block for some Spartan ablutions.
It was cold but bright. The wind gusted, so one minute I was warm, the next feeling cold air slicing through me. Last years cygnets swam on the river.
I dithered. I was tempted to stay, but my ginger boy really needed some outdoor play. Eventually I decided to pack up and return to London.
Vacuuming the boat, I was amazed at how much fur Not Cat had shed over the weekend. I let it go into the wind. Birds will line their nests with it.
The sunshine brought more people to the marina. A man was anxiously changing the oil on his boat, a Freeman.
I picked Not Cat up to place him in the pet caddy. Suddenly he seemed to have far more legs than I had noticed before. He clung to me, to the drawer, to the bed. Useless to explain to him we were leaving so he could run about outside.
Surprisingly, he travelled very well. A few protesting meows to start, then silence. We had two stops. Once when I saw a litter bin and offloaded three bags of litter tray contents, and then at a hardware store where I knew there was a loo.
Ironically, as we neared home there was a real April shower. Blue skies but splodgy rain beating down for a few minutes.
He has been outside almost constantly since we got back. Even hailstones in another shower barely fazed him. The blackbirds were squawking mightily and no sign of my boy, so I guessing he was hidden in foliage too close to their nest.
Twenty four hours on the boat have left me with sealegs. I am rocking gently, looking forward to being afloat again in a few weeks time.