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Felix fixation
Monday, July 21st, 2003 11:39 amThe Polish Brigade (tm), (or at least one of them) have purchased a kitten.
It is a cuteful little thing of some 10 -11 weeks age and may, someday, answer to the name Leah with which it has been lumbered. It lives in the room next to mine. It also lives on the landing, the stairs, in the other room next door and in my kitchen. It has wandered into my bedroom and annexed the area under the wardrobe, but beyond that it has respected my neutrality in matters feline.
The little brute doesn't quite know what to make of Yours Truly, and tends to run like the hoards of Hell are after it when I show up. The fact that I am about 6'-1" and the moggie is less than 9" long from tip to tip may well influence its thinking, despite the fact that I have successfully tickled its belly a couple of times.
Of course, this is balanced out by the fact that this morning we scared the bejasus out of each other. The alarm having gone off, I staggered into the kitchen in the quest for coffee. As is my custom, this was undertaken on auto pilot - until the caffeine kicks in and I can enhance it with nicotine (the full English breakfast) I can in no significant way be considered to be awake.
This morning, I kicked the door open (as I do every morning) and lumbered in blearily. One pace in, there was a surprised squawk from a box under the ironing board, and about 1lb of ninja kitten leapt into the air and raced out onto the landing. There was an equally surprised squeak from me. I am unaccustomed to wildlife in my kitchen (other than the stuff that evolves on the bread).
The need for caffeine was abated somewhat by the sudden appearance of adrenaline in my system.
It wakes you up far faster than coffee.
It is a cuteful little thing of some 10 -11 weeks age and may, someday, answer to the name Leah with which it has been lumbered. It lives in the room next to mine. It also lives on the landing, the stairs, in the other room next door and in my kitchen. It has wandered into my bedroom and annexed the area under the wardrobe, but beyond that it has respected my neutrality in matters feline.
The little brute doesn't quite know what to make of Yours Truly, and tends to run like the hoards of Hell are after it when I show up. The fact that I am about 6'-1" and the moggie is less than 9" long from tip to tip may well influence its thinking, despite the fact that I have successfully tickled its belly a couple of times.
Of course, this is balanced out by the fact that this morning we scared the bejasus out of each other. The alarm having gone off, I staggered into the kitchen in the quest for coffee. As is my custom, this was undertaken on auto pilot - until the caffeine kicks in and I can enhance it with nicotine (the full English breakfast) I can in no significant way be considered to be awake.
This morning, I kicked the door open (as I do every morning) and lumbered in blearily. One pace in, there was a surprised squawk from a box under the ironing board, and about 1lb of ninja kitten leapt into the air and raced out onto the landing. There was an equally surprised squeak from me. I am unaccustomed to wildlife in my kitchen (other than the stuff that evolves on the bread).
The need for caffeine was abated somewhat by the sudden appearance of adrenaline in my system.
It wakes you up far faster than coffee.
