MasterB is outside. I can’t say I envy him. It is very very cold tonight. But I guess a boy has to do what a boy has to do, and running about in the cold seems a peculiarly boy activity. That said, I rather missed my running around with Westie Boy this morning. I’ve got lots of wobbly footage. In this bit, he isn’t playing with his indestructible ball, but seems to be enjoying some rather unfocused running about.
MasterB has been extremely vocal for most of the day. He started when I arrived at the cattery and just kept going. Some of his remarks from the pet carrier on the passenger seat beside me on the journey home sounded tantrumesque. But mainly he has kept a loud commentary on everything and anything, including some possibly very personal comments to a neighbour washing her window frames.
This non-stop littany has fortunately been accompanied by lots of demonstrations of affection, including a rare few minutes sitting on my knee. I have had my face rubbed repeatedly, he has climbed up to be beside me wherever I have been, followed me about the garden and impeded my attempts to collect the latest delivery of his biscuits from the garagiste who kindly takes in my parcels. Three times I set off diown the street, only to be followed by a yowling MasterB apparently distraught at the prospect of being separated from me so early in our reunion, and forced to return. Eventually his desire to rebond with his tabby girlfriend outweighed his need to keep me in sight and he took to the walltops.
Whoever started the rumour that cats are independent creatures who don’t give a hoot about their human companions ought to be prosecuted under the trades description act. Even before I collected MasterB I had a cuddle with Izzy the kitten, still astonishly without a permanent home. She was neutered during the week, but a shaved flank and a few stitches in her side hadn’t slowed her down. She appeared at the window as I walked through the gate, greeted me like a long lost friend, rolled and pranced and played, purring all the while.
She is nigh on impossible to photograph as she is on the go the whole time. This is all I managed.
So one way and another I have had a pretty good kitten fix over the past week, but lovely though they are, they’re not a patch on my wonderful MasterB. But now it’s time for The Last Leg, so I am going to sit down in front of the television and get my boy in in the ad break.