Maybe I should never leave the house...

So yesterday I went down to Lewisham to visit colonel_maxim and ginasketch to watch rubbish movies followed by the Superbowl. It was a small gathering, just the three of us plus motorpickle, but this proved quite sufficient to our having a splendid time, though The Colonel had overcatered as is his wont.

I came home today to find us in temporary posession of a cat.

To explain: Furtle's cousin had a rather nasty riding accident of Saturday. She came off her horse (who knew she had a horse?) amd it trod on her, breaking five ribs and rupturing her liver, leading to extensive internal bleeding. Without going into gory details, the likes of which I can only surmise, she is in hospital and likely to be so for a while. In the meantime, we have taken temporary posession of her cat.

I'm not sure how old the cat is. Not very, I'd estimate. He is very lively, very inquisitive, likes high places and open cupboards. Everything knock-off-able has been removed from shelves for the time being. He is also fast and agile and eager to explore. Unfortunately, this includes exploring outside, given the chance. He is, though, very much a house cat and to let him out with a main road outside the front door would be pretty much to invite him to walk into the traffic. So he stays inside.

As I say, he - Jasper - is a lively, inquisitive cat. He also has very short fur. He is not exactly hairless, but the fluff he is covered in looks like the inside of a warm mocassin. The fur is this enough for you to see the little folds in his rather scrawny skin and when he sits down he looks like an oven-ready chicken with a hint of down and a cat's head. When first we were told about him we had mental pictures of a feline Gollum, but what we have is an inside out slipper with a crew cut. We think he is something called a Devon Rex or a Cornish Rex and he is the very embodiment of mischief. As I type, he has insinuated himself between me and the back of my chair where it is nice and warm. He will be sorely aggreived in a few minutes when I go for a shower and turf him into the kitchen for the night, where he can do least (I hope) harm.

This is not the first example of him getting comfortable in an awkward position. We watched Master and Commander on DVD this evening, though I found it easier to watch than did Furtle:




Edited to add: Yup. I am persona non grata this morning.

Maybe I should never leave the house...

So yesterday I went down to Lewisham to visit colonel_maxim and ginasketch to watch rubbish movies followed by the Superbowl. It was a small gathering, just the three of us plus motorpickle, but this proved quite sufficient to our having a splendid time, though The Colonel had overcatered as is his wont.

I came home today to find us in temporary posession of a cat.

To explain: Furtle's cousin had a rather nasty riding accident of Saturday. She came off her horse (who knew she had a horse?) amd it trod on her, breaking five ribs and rupturing her liver, leading to extensive internal bleeding. Without going into gory details, the likes of which I can only surmise, she is in hospital and likely to be so for a while. In the meantime, we have taken temporary posession of her cat.

I'm not sure how old the cat is. Not very, I'd estimate. He is very lively, very inquisitive, likes high places and open cupboards. Everything knock-off-able has been removed from shelves for the time being. He is also fast and agile and eager to explore. Unfortunately, this includes exploring outside, given the chance. He is, though, very much a house cat and to let him out with a main road outside the front door would be pretty much to invite him to walk into the traffic. So he stays inside.

As I say, he - Jasper - is a lively, inquisitive cat. He also has very short fur. He is not exactly hairless, but the fluff he is covered in looks like the inside of a warm mocassin. The fur is this enough for you to see the little folds in his rather scrawny skin and when he sits down he looks like an oven-ready chicken with a hint of down and a cat's head. When first we were told about him we had mental pictures of a feline Gollum, but what we have is an inside out slipper with a crew cut. We think he is something called a Devon Rex or a Cornish Rex and he is the very embodiment of mischief. As I type, he has insinuated himself between me and the back of my chair where it is nice and warm. He will be sorely aggreived in a few minutes when I go for a shower and turf him into the kitchen for the night, where he can do least (I hope) harm.

This is not the first example of him getting comfortable in an awkward position. We watched Master and Commander on DVD this evening, though I found it easier to watch than did Furtle:




Edited to add: Yup. I am persona non grata this morning.

Top Cat

When I went into the kitchen this morning, the cat was standing by the door and he gave me a quite withering look as I walked in. I am clearly in his bad books for dropping him in there in the first place. Until then he’d been watching me surf the web, curled up in the crook of my arm. He clearly felt that we had bonded enough for me to cut him some slack.

I’m afraid he’s just going to have to get used to being left in there over night; I for one don’t want to trip over him at the top of the stairs and fall arse over tit into the living room in the middle of the night when I wake up to visit the bathroom. We have already had to hide or move anything breakable from the shelves so he won’t knock them off during his explorations. More to the point, he is restricted to the kitchen while we are at work for the simple reason that we are not convinced that we can open the front door without him attempting to race out and play with the traffic.

I expect we shall pay for this injustice later, when we get home. In the meantime I understand from Furtle who left the house later than me this morning, that he was last seen strutting his stuff in the kitchen window like some Dutch Lady of the Night in Amsterdam.

Top Cat

When I went into the kitchen this morning, the cat was standing by the door and he gave me a quite withering look as I walked in. I am clearly in his bad books for dropping him in there in the first place. Until then he’d been watching me surf the web, curled up in the crook of my arm. He clearly felt that we had bonded enough for me to cut him some slack.

I’m afraid he’s just going to have to get used to being left in there over night; I for one don’t want to trip over him at the top of the stairs and fall arse over tit into the living room in the middle of the night when I wake up to visit the bathroom. We have already had to hide or move anything breakable from the shelves so he won’t knock them off during his explorations. More to the point, he is restricted to the kitchen while we are at work for the simple reason that we are not convinced that we can open the front door without him attempting to race out and play with the traffic.

I expect we shall pay for this injustice later, when we get home. In the meantime I understand from Furtle who left the house later than me this morning, that he was last seen strutting his stuff in the kitchen window like some Dutch Lady of the Night in Amsterdam.

Bat Bed?

A propos nothing, here is a bed I saw in a furniture shop window in Lewisham on Sunday evening. It is rare that I see furniture and stop to gawp, but this managed to stop me in my tracks.

It is both stylish and hideous at the same time.

Apparently it's been there for months. How can this be?

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.

Bat Bed?

A propos nothing, here is a bed I saw in a furniture shop window in Lewisham on Sunday evening. It is rare that I see furniture and stop to gawp, but this managed to stop me in my tracks.

It is both stylish and hideous at the same time.

Apparently it's been there for months. How can this be?

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.