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Kitty Cat



Funny, how an eighteen year old can flicker her eyelids and cuddle in such a disearning way as to sweigh my hubby into submission and me fighting her corner in a way I haven't done since she was a nipper. Her constant plea to own a kitten, fell upon deaf ears on almost a weekly basis and I don't know why but he relented almost out of the blue?


Before long we were travelling high into the Pennine region way above Pendle Hill on a rainy, misty Wednesday evening in search of a Persian Cat Breeder. After squabbling about directions -- I'm the worlds worst orienteerer, we ended up practically on a hill slope with an un-nerving feeling of insecurity. We were met at the top of a very long driveway with a smiling lady with two cats under each arm - no doubt we were at the right place then!


She invited us in and immediately my daughter was in awe at the fluffballs that ran around her feet.


"Mum, look at that one, it's gorgeous -- can I have it?"


The lady picked the kitten up -- "Oh he's trouble, full of beans and such a character"


"I want it! she said, taking hold.


We stayed for a while and then realising we had quite a trek home, said our goodbyes with kitten in carrier and daughter gleeming in tow.

The ride home was nightmare-ish! The kitten wined, scratched and growled in the back and my daughter tried in vain to calm him down but his cries got louder the further we went. I was beginning to realise that this was a bad idea but I had no idea how bad it was to become.


We arrived home well after 11pm. I was tired and I just needed my bed. My daughter opened the carrier door and "Whoosh" he was off! He ran round like a little tornado. My cloth was off the table in the first instance and before I could grab him, he was on top of the dresser. In a flash he was under the TV and then he tried to run up the chimney only my daughter grabbed his tail and we caught him before he swept it for us. The lovely cream coloured kitten was now a dusty black and not at all the same kitten we'd picked up an hour or so ago! The lady had spent hours bathing, grooming and making every one of her kittens look like little darlings. It's true that our kitten was the most handsome one in all the litter and his fur so fluffy and soft, he really had the aww factor! Now he looked like an old well used lavatory brush.


"We'll sort him out tomorrow" I said with a yawn "Give him his basket and some toys, he'll be fine"


I didn't know what we'd be waking up to -- would I have any furniture left or would he have found a means of escape and took off? but I popped my head around the door to see a little mucky kitten curled up in a ball. "Aww" he looked so cute but when he saw me, he was off! My daughter pushed past me in the doorway, grabbed him and began talking to him like he was a baby. I don't think anyone had told him that he only had 4 legs instead of eight because he found climbing the wall no challenge at all. We had to prise him off the upright beam! This cat was crossed with a monkey and a spider I'm sure!


Bathtime was an experience I shant be repeating on my own. He looked like a drowned rat as he slipped from the towel and ran straight downstairs. "What on earth have you done to him" asked hubby, as he ran straight over the top of the couch. I suppose blow drying was out of the question!


"He's wet through --he needs rubbing down or something" exclaimed my hubby who'd just had a shower when he shook himself as he darted past.


My daughter came home to a bedraggled cat and promptly grabbed the brush which turned into a pantomime. My table cloth came off again so did several ornaments from my dresser. He was clinging onto the curtain almost touching the pole and my daughter was trying to coax him down with a piece of string. He looked nothing like a Persian cat, more like a ferret or a sewer rat. He was pedigree through and through. Both parents were champions and their parents before them. Blue blood ran through his veins and a hint of madness I think!


This is the 4th day of keeping. He's calmed down a bit and he's beginning to want a little love. He sat with me today, purring gently, then had a little mad half hour which I ignored. We've adopted a tyrant but how can I not love him? He's so cute and he's part of our family now.


Why are all my animals the same? Mad, extrovert and out to give us a hard time! Perhaps it's us?


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