Azziria's journal

Note to self: When the resident felines sit and *stare* at you like that, it probably means nobody's fed them yet...

So, one cat is bouncing around the garden throwing snow in the air and pouncing on it then licking it off his paws while the other cat is firmly indoors and having nothing whatsoever to do with that nasty cold white stuff out there...

Max, while you and I both know that you *often* sit on the kitchen work surfaces, I would appreciate it if you could refrain from doing so while we have visitors so that I can at least *pretend* that optimal hygiene standards are maintained in this house.

We have A Dog visiting.

Neither kitteh is very impressed...

(Although said Dog is very sweet and well-behaved, and has a healthy respect for cats!)

I am ignoring this cat, who should not be on the kitchen table licking out my empty cereal bowl (and knows it perfectly well, given the way he's keeping a wary eye on me).

I am ignoring him because at least while he is engaging in this highly illegal activity he is not trying to climb my leg and yelling at me to feed him.

I have a very insistent lapful of wet cat.

I think someone might be hungry...

If that cat gets any deeper in the beanbag he will suffocate...

Milly is deeply suspicious of the new sofa :)

So funny...

Maximum Muddypaws, Inspector of Building Works.

Guess that's the sofa covers back into the wash, then.

Good thing I like our neighbours so much...

No, not Max or Milly.

When we first moved to this house, half a mile from our old house, one of our two cats, Barnaby (a big ginger-and-white rescue moggie), refused to move with us. We kept moving him and keeping him in, but each time, two days or so after being let out, he went back. The pull of his territory was just too great.

In the end our old neighbours adopted him.

Out for a walk the other evening we bumped into our old neighbours. They told us that Barnaby died last year, at a grand old age. He had become a real lap cat, and grown thin at the end (although the vet had constantly reassured them that he was in no pain or discomfort), and eventually they found him curled up 'asleep' on the doormat one morning, having passed away with no fuss.

A good end for an old friend. RIP, Barnaby, you were much loved.