Waiting for good-oh

“What are all these boxes doing in the house?” we asked Rachel.

“We’re moving.” she said. “We’re going to have a lovely new house, and everything will come with us in those boxes.”

“Can we bring the mice?” Lottie asked.

Not the real ones, apparently. Just toys.

And then Rachel said “You shall have a garden, Millie, and trees. It’s going to be good!”

“Good-oh”, I said. She gave me that look. She doesn’t like it when I’m sarky. “When are we moving with everything and all those boxes?” Rachel said she didn’t know; we would have to wait.

So I waited.

And waited.

I can’t see any movement.

Waiting is boring.

Maybe she was teasing us.

How do you like your eggs?

I’ll bring you one, to cook just as you like it.

I’ll carry it carefully in my mouth, and drop it just where you can see it. Maybe at the back door, maybe on the kitchen floor.

You need to be quick to spot it though, because Hamish will run off with it, given half a chance, and will growl if you ask for it back.

He likes his eggs raw. So uncivilised.

Intrepid, me!

This is our look out point. It’s very high up.

I used to be frightened up there. Not any more though!

See that ledge, on the far side of the bay window? And the ledge next to it? And the neighbour’s bay window? They’re spaced out further apart than they look.

If you hop over them, and lie low on top of the neighbour’s bay, Rachel might not spot you when she gathers everyone inside for the night. Trouble is, she then shuts the sash window, and you can’t get back in when you’ve finished hiding in the dark…..

Then she gets up at 2.15 a.m. because she can’t sleep, and is worried about why you aren’t in your usual bed, and goes looking for you.

And she spots your ears sticking up above the parapet of the neighbour’s bay window, so she leaves the sash window open, and you can come in again.

But not at once, of course. After all, you are a cat. It wouldn’t do to develop obedience. No, you must wait till Rachel has gone back to bed, and come in just when you feel like it. Meantime, you have a wonderful view of fat Hattie wandering about in the street below, because she won’t come in either when Suzy calls her, and you can hear a nasty cat fight going on somewhere, but you are safe, and very high up.

But Rachel still can’t sleep, and at 4.30 in the morning she comes back down and finds you in your radiator cradle-bed, and what does she do? Scold you and call you a wicked stop-out? Not at all. She strokes you and tells you that you are such a good cat, and so brave to jump across those gaps, especially with your fuller figure. And you purr loudly, because you know it’s true.

Tonight she will make sure that the window is closed early, before it gets dark and exciting outside. She says  night time security measures are being Stepped Up.

Black panther

If you sit at the top of the stairs long enough, someone is sure to come up.

Millie’s on her way. See the blur?

Silly thing, she thinks she can outrun me.

Flare the ears….

….and pounce.

Rachel was too slow to catch the lightning speed at which I can pounce. Stupid woman. You’d have been impressed.

At the watering hole

It’s been quite warm outside, and we’ve been in the back yard a lot.

Mostly we watch bees and other flying things that aren’t nice to eat.

Or we sit on the bench. Like little old men, Rachel says.

She thought we’d like something else to do. So she brought us an old enamel bowl and filled it with water. Then she watched from the kitchen window.

Splish!

Splat!
Ladylike sips.

Thank you, Rachel. Jungle animals need a watering place.