The Soliciting Purr

Penny: Aren't I Cute... Will Beat Up The Somalis In A Minute..

Penny: Aren’t I Cute… Will Beat Up The Somalis In A Minute..

Last night I was watching a programme on BBC2 called ‘The secret lives of cats’. One thing that really fascinated me was that the scientists pointed out that cats have 2 kinds of purring; The usual type of ‘I am happy’ purring – and then what they call a ‘soliciting purr’. In short, a soliciting purr, pretty much means ‘Give Me, Give Me, Give Me – NOW!’, and it tends to incorporate the same frequency as a baby’s cry.  Upon hearing that a sudden light went off in my head. I have always noticed that when Ulysses – my Persian – sleeps on my pillow, I can sleep through any of his purring quite happily. Yet, when my old Somali – D’Artagnan – was still alive, he would have what I used to call a ‘directional purr’ that inevitably would wake me right up. I could never understand why. I assumed that it was simply that he was my special boy, but I now realise that he was using underhanded, secret warfare and manipulation! He had found the key – purr at the right frequency, and even someone like me with no children would be programmed automatically to wake up and give him what he wanted…

We always think that humans are the primary movers and shakers on this planet. Well, whether it is through natural selection or whether cats are just naturally devious – how come cats in cat-loving households inevitably ends up being so much in charge? We love our dogs as well, yet it is rare for a family to cater to a dog’s need the way that a lot of people do to their cat. What is it about cats that makes us acknowledge them as independent beings that we assume can’t be trained? Cats get away with so many things that we would never let any other animals get away with. There was only one answer for it – interview the cats!

Ianthe went the whole big-eyed innocence way. What? Moi? Manipulate? You Have The Wrong Cat, she said. I Just Love You- Lots – And Need You – Right Now – Rubbing My Tummy – Right There.. Yes, That Is Right, purring wildly….and there I was doing exactly what she wanted. Izabelle agreed with her. You Know I Never Get Enough Attention So How Can You Think I Would Manipulate ANYONE? I Just Know How Much You Enjoy It When I Rub My Head Right There Against Your Hand And Wrap My Paws Around It – Yes, Just That Way, And How Nice Is It To Rub MY Tummy??

Penny predictably declined to answer. Don’t Know What You Are Talking About, she claimed. You Must Have Dreamed It. Are You Having The Rest Of That Chicken, By The Way? And while I absentmindedly fed her the chicken I pondered whether I had been mistaken. As for Ulysses – Well, I Don’t Think So Fast, he mumbled. Besides Which The Girls Always Have The Better Answers – I Just Do Cute…

Shifting of balances

Look At Me!

Look At Me!

Cats juggle inter-feline relationships all the time and it is fascinating to watch the shifts and the testing that takes place. After we said goodbye to our lovely D’Artagnan – my 17 year old Somali boy – the balance in the house between the remaining 4 has been really interesting.

First of all I would have thought that Ulysses – my 6 year old Chinchilla Persian – would have remained bottom of the hierarchy where he has always been. He never argues with the girls, except to chase and play with our massive, 5 year old Maine Coon – Penny. What I hadn’t anticipated was that he is so focused on my attention that he is willing to throw his – considerable – weight around a bit to get it. Since D’Ar passed away, Ulysses has become my shadow. He sleeps on D’Ar’s pillow next to mine, he appears within minutes of me sitting down to work at my desk and settles down for the long haul. If I am there – he is there. He has started mewing piteously again when I take a bath – he thinks water is really scary.. – and he camps out on the table when I have my breakfast, chatting all the time about how important it is to not let kitties fade away into nothing (he is very solid… as in somewhat fat…).

Penny is the funniest. She has so determined that she WILL be top cat in the household and does everything to reinforce it – but always in a subtle fashion. One thing that has changed is that she suddenly vocalises a lot more than she used to. We get long, chirpy serenades addressed at my husband. Loove You, she croons. Need To Be Cuddled, she sighs, Feed Me Now?, she manages to insert.. When D’Ar was alive we used to feed Penny her food spread on the floor. She is on Prescription Diet j/d because she has arthritis, and D’Ar used to like a taste of that – but only if he could ‘steal’ it from her. After he is gone, we have gone back to feeding Penny in her activity board – a white board filled with obstacles that requires a handy paw to get anything to eat. Penny is NOT impressed and spends the whole time she is eating calling to the kibbles, interspersed with asides to us as to her opinion about this – obviously hoping that the food will magically move out on the floor. Can’t Believe They Have Put My Food In Here, she complains, while busily fishing with a paw. Come Here You Little *&%^, she grumbles as one piece of kibble eludes her. Heeere, Kibble, Kibble, she entreats… And at some point she turns around, jumps up on my husband and shouts in his face: Just Open The Door Now – Much Easier To Pinch Ulysses’ Food!!

Izabelle has taken the opportunity as well to fill out some of the space left by D’Ar. She is busy purring away and setting her firm and muscular bum on me at every opportunity she gets. Takes Up Too Much Space, she complains about Ulysses on the desk. Nice When It Is Cold, she sighs and settles into his (considerable) fur. At first she tried very hard to see if she could wrestle control from Penny, but after a period of incredulous stares from our Maine Coon (who is twice Izzie’s size), Penny finally took to chasing her energetically around the house until the point was made. You Are Not In Charge, she said firmly. Now Scoot! So instead Izzie is busy beating up the dog – as usual..

Ianthe already had her preferred times and spots for sole attention. Sofa Is Mine! She declares, busily stomping on me, purring so loudly that the whole sofa shakes.  Ahhh! She sighs and plunks herself down, staring worshipfully into my eyes while gently chewing on my chin or nose depending on what she can get to.. Can Help With Cooking! She insists when I am in the kitchen making coffee or food – and promptly drapes herself around my neck and hangs over my shoulders, intently observing everything I do. Hmm, she comments, Frying Fish Not That Difficult – Let Me?

So while the space after D’Ar by no means has filled out – I don’t think anything can – the girls and the boy are doing their best to change it around a bit. To make it something different. And to get more attention while they are at it. As to my comment the other day that maybe we need another cat – NOOOO  – they all said… But then I haven’t told them yet that Ianthe is due to go off next week to get mated… hmm – lots of kitties then…

Cat toys

Izabelle with her favourite toy

Izabelle with her favourite toy

This morning I woke up to the sound of Penny playing. Like all silly kitty-parents, we fall for temptation and buy the odd cat toy for the motley crew at home. It sounded as if Penny was having a really good time, so I craned my head around the old boy (no, not the husband, D’Ar – the old Somali! ), who promptly grumbled at me – Stay Put. Too Early To Get Up. Cuddle Ration Not FulFilled Yet! Penny chose that moment to catapult across the floor, acrobatically land on one hindleg and proceed to throw something through the air with her front paw – and promptly chasing after it. My first thought was that the Hill’s Prescription Diet j/d obviously was doing her arthritis wonders as it has been a while since she was last this agile. The next was curiosity to see what super toy she had found, and a fleeting thought that I should buy a new one of those. Well, probably to no-one’s surprise the super toy that she was playing with was – a really big elastic band…..

We tend to keep the elastic bands out of reach of small kittens, but this one was one of the ones that the mail comes wrapped in, so quite a sturdy specimen that hopefully wouldn’t get swallowed and disappear into the insides of a cat and cause havoc.  Penny was quite pleased with this one. Was Rude! She said… Needed To Be Told Off. Quickly! Quite A Lively Little Escape Artist! She followed up with a slightly bemused expression on her face.

After many, many years of buying cat toys I have come to the conclusion that – at least for my cats – it really is quite simple. A good ‘cigar’ or other big toy stuffed with catnip is extremely popular – for 3 days. Then it needs to be taken away for a month before being given again – for 3 days. Ping pong balls are brilliant – if you can put up with the noise of them on wooden floors or tiles. If you want to participate, feather dusters or sticks with long, dangly boas on their end are great. And the absolute winners are 3: Pipe cleaners twisted into funny shapes (they move like greased lightning when the cats hit them), big elastic bands (SO Funny To Put A Paw On Them, Bite Into Them, Pull And Have Them Go Snap And Hit The Paw, the mittens earnestly assure me) and finally – the little white circle that keeps a stack of blank CD’s in their place (!) (I know – really, really weird…).

The last one we discovered by accident. One of the cats followed the usual principles of clean desk policy – found it on the table and promptly hit it so it fell on the floor. At this stage it was discovered by the mittens – and oh, dear…. I have never seen two kittens play so hard…Being tough parents we tend to only give them one toy at a time – so much more fun to see them all follow each other around to see if they can snatch it away..

So – moral of the story – cat toys are really mostly for humans…. At least according to my cats. Really, Mum, they say with a slightly pitying expression on their face when I present them with a new fancy toy, You Are Just SO Predictable – Will Buy Anything Shiny. And off they go to play with the pipe cleaners…

The Weather

Just as with so many other things, in our household, the cats blame us for the weather.

Well, Don't Just Stand There! Make It Stop Raining! Now!!

Well, Don’t Just Stand There! Make It Stop Raining! Now!!

Picture this: Cat (typically Penny (our big Maine Coon) or D’Ar (our 17 year old Somali) will stand in front of the door that leads from the kitchen to the garden. Now, this is a French Window door – so they can perfectly well look through the glass and see exactly what the weather is like outside. If we do not jump up quickly enough to let them out, the inevitable pointed stare (over the shoulder) will follow. Need Out. Now.  Move! If that doesn’t work, an impatient, tight circle might be walked in front of the door and an imperious shout. Yo! Pay Attention! Service Now!

On a good day, that is where it ends. The door gets opened, cat runs out to catch things in the garden or drink the yucky rain water (Tastes Much Better Than Tap Water – Even With Dead Snails In It, they claim. ). On rainy days or even worse, rainy days with WIND – it is another story. The first give away is that when we open the door, the cat doesn’t move… Instead, it sticks its nose out and sniffs gently. If the weather is bad enough, that usually means it gets settled quickly – kitty turns away with a disgusted look on her / his face and walks off – grumbling under their breath. If the weather is so, so…. kitty stays in the door. And stays. And stays. Might Change Momentarily, they complain when I urge them to make a decision. Never Know. Not Sure I Want To Go Out After All.

Since we don’t let the mittens (our 1 year old Somali girls) out in the garden, and since they are lightning fast, having the kitchen door open for extended periods of time is a very bad idea.. If the weather isn’t too bad, I have been known to bend down and gently shove Penny out the door, but D’Ar – of course – always gets to choose.  So there I am, with the door open, the old Somali hanging out and thinking about it and me using my feet to fend off inquisitive girl noses. Eventually, he will turn around and go off in disgust..

The story doesn’t stop there, of course. Because, as far as the cats are concerned. Weather Changes. We Are Sure. Very Fast. So three minutes later – there is the cat again. Need Out. Now! Move! And we go through the routine again. Usually by then, they decide that it is Our Fault. Mummy You Have Made The Weather Bad, they say. Now Change It! Immediately! All delivered with the most offended expression on their faces and a stare straight into yours. And it doesn’t matter how much I protest my innocence – Will Have Revenge, Penny grumbles (D’Ar is too old to go that far – he just sulks), Chew On Your Rye Bread When You Turn Your Back! Ruin It For You!  And off she goes…

Training Cats

Hmm...What Can I Do Next..

Hmm…What Can I Do Next..

Have you ever heard people express the opinion that it is impossible to train cats? Well, I beg to differ.. Obviously, you have to train the cats in a) the right way and b) the right things. The right way varies depending on what motivates them and as to what the right things are – well, if they involve too much effort for too little reward, forget it – it ain’t going to happen.

In our kitty household there are two types of training:

1)      Training cats to do things we want them to do

2)      Training cats to NOT do things that we DON’T want them to do

And funnily enough, the first one is a lot easier than the second one.. As an example we have trained all the cats to be calm when we pick them up. That is fairly easy, especially if you start when they are young. Simply never put them down when they struggle. Ever. At all. Wait until they are calm – then put them down. Ulysses has been especially well trained in this. When he was a kitten, I would promptly pick him up and hand him to any visitor that walked through the door – and while my visitor was holding this Persian kitten (often with a slightly bemused expression on their face), I would explain the rules of holding him until he stopped struggling.  Result: pretty much anyone can pick him up at anytime and he puts up with it – and even throws his paws around their neck if they are tall ( he is VERY afraid of heights…) and  clings on for dear life.

As for teaching them not to do things they aren’t supposed to do – well, this works best when we are around.. The kitchen counters are a great example. Ulysses – never on them (afraid of heights, remember?). Penny – well, occasionally I find very LARGE muddy paw prints on them in the morning – a bit of a give away – but she is never on them when we are around. The mittens? Well, we are still working on that one.. Just 5 minutes ago I came downstairs only to find Izabelle smugly sitting on the countertop next to the Aga. Good View From Here, she commented, Toasty Warm, Too! All the while starting at my with wide open innocent eyes – Lost Little Kitty, she beseeched, Surely Can Stay?? Needless to say, the answer was a resounding NO…

When we have visitors for dinner, it becomes quite interesting. We will be having a calm and polite conversation over the dinner table, I will catch a mitten jumping up on a counter top in the utility room and will immediately SCREAM something extremely rude (in Danish – handy that..) and very, very loud, cat will jump down and I will turn around to continue the conversation, only to find the visitor frozen with the expression of a deer caught in the headlights, obviously having no clue as to what is going on (not being tuned into cats on the countertop the way we are), what has been said (which is probably a good thing..) or what they have done to deserve being shouted at. At which point I go ‘Erm…’ and have to explain the house rules. Coming to think of it, maybe that is why people who have been to dinner at our house tends to think of me as being potentially a person that they don’t want to upset. Ever.

As for the cat in question? Well, they roll their eyes and go *Sheesh*…There She Goes Again..Never Allowing Us Any Fun…

Coming back from vacations

This year we went away for Christmas – just 5 days to go to Denmark and visit my family. One thing I have noticed since having 5 cats is that they react differently to us going away than they did when I just had 2 cats.

Good! Suitcase Back Where It Belongs...Under Me!

Good! Suitcase Back Where It Belongs…Under Me!

With just 2 cats – they get offended when you go away… Unless they had been neglected while we had been away, we would be met with a cold shoulder when we got home. They would literally sit with their backs turned to us, their ears slightly pinned back and a VERY sulky expression on their faces. You Abandoned Us, they would grumble, Now We Have Abandoned You! And it would be at least 24 hours before they would deign to notice that we had come back.

As the cat count increased to 4 – that behaviour went away completely. Apparently there is now so much competition for our attention that it is a question of just getting in there – quick!! Depending on  who have gotten the most attention from our cat sitter while we have been away, though – there are still differences in behaviour.

This time when we came home – we could really tell. D’Artagnan – my old boy – was waiting in the hall way. Have Been Waiting For 5 Days, he cried sadly, You Left Me And I Thought I Might Die! (The cat sitter did confirm that he kept wandering into the hallway to stare at the door…). And then we needed to pick him up and cuddle…and cuddle…and cuddle…and feed…and feed…and cuddle some more…

At this time Penny the Maine Coon had made her way into the kitchen to see us – You Could Feed That Food To Me, You Know, she stated casually – from which we guessed that she had not succeeded in persuading the cat sitter that Really, Cat Food Should Be Fed At All Times And In Great Quantities – and then she accepted a scratch – but nothing major. Sarah Cuddles Good, Too, You Know, she confided..

By now Ulysses – my Chinchilla Persian boy –  had realised that we were home and was frantically weaving around our feet while yelling at the top of his voice (not that loud… – I think his voice gets muffled by all that fur..) Talk To Me, Now! It Was Terrible And I Got Combed All The Time And She Picked Me UP And She Cuddled Me Lots! And after due reassurance, he went off to find the suitcase. Must Sleep Here For The Next Month, he declared, Will Keep Them From Going Off Again!

And finally the mittens – Ianthe and Izabelle , my Somali Girls – ambled into the kitchen while yawning gently. Ianthe was the most blasé – Been Just Fine, Thank You, she said, Sarah Easy Victim Of Being Monopolised! By which statement I gathered that Ianthe had plunked herself down on Sarah and STAYED there the whole time.. Izzie waited until I wandered off to check my e-mails – at which point she proceeded to insist on cuddles in the most hysterical fashion possible. NEED CUDDLES NOW!! She screamed while throwing herself at me.

Ianthe did come for cuddles later as I was sitting on the couch – Could Need  A Recharge, she casually mentioned while shoving her sister off my lap and dropping herself down there instead. At which point in time, D’Artagnan walked into the lounge – looked at us on the couch, put his ears back in disgust and went into the utility room to pee on the floor. Revenge, he grumbled. You Went Away, You Were Away for AGES And Now You Are Ignoring Me – So There…. And my husband sighed and wiped it up. ‘We are definitely home….’, he said..

Cat Communication

Have you ever wondered where science fiction gets its ideas from? In this case I am thinking about the ‘power-stare’. Superman’s ability to see through anything except lead, other superheroes ability to use their eyes like laser beams, etc etc. Well, my personal theory is that it all started with a cat owner…

Ahh.. Finally Some Proper Water!

Ahh.. Finally Some Proper Water!

This morning as I was in the bathroom, I turned on the tap for the Ianthe to have a drink. Ianthe is of the firm opinion that taps are exclusively for her –  providing drinking water, toys and entertainment in one package. She will run ahead of you when you are anywhere near one of the bathrooms, shouting at the top of her voice (also known as ‘braying’ when I am in one of my more unkind moods – there can be a certain insistent quality to her voice) – Come Here, Need Water Now, Must Play, It Is Time! And once you turn the water on, she scrunches up her entire face in the funniest way while she drinks at considerable speed! After which, of course, it is time to see how much of the water you can spread over the bathroom….

The only thing she thinks is even better than the tap is the shower…. Every single morning when my husband goes to take his shower, Ianthe is running back and forth in the shower cubicle shouting  Do It, Come On, Let’s Get The Water Going. And even when he turns the shower on and inadvertently (I think…) forgets to turn the shower head to the wall, so she gets the full load on top of her – she still stays in there, happily drinking and playing with the water. ‘Wet cat!’ he might shout to me to signify that I need to find a towel if I don’t want water everywhere as she merrily runs through the house drying herself on anything she can find..

So this morning it was entirely predictable that Ianthe would be happily drinking from the tap when I turned it on. This morning, however, Penny – my Maine Coon – had decided that she needed a drink… Now, if it had been Izabelle that wanted a drink, she would just have muscled in and moved her sister out of the way, or at least tried to, but Penny believes in Superior Communication. So Penny just – stared – and then she intensified her – Stare – and then she – STARED.. And for every intensity point that went up, I saw Ianthe change. The face stopped scrunching, the eyes started shifting and then – lo and behold – something REALLY INTERESTING called her from the floor, and she just HAD to go and Investigate! Not Because Of Penny, she explained as she jumped down, Just REALLY Need To See What Is There!

Right…said Penny – and proceeded to drink from the tap in a majestic and considerate way – just to make her point…


One of the regular routines in our household when we have visitors coming is that last minute running around with the vacuum cleaner. Let’s face it. In a house with 5 cats – 3 of which go in and out of the garden – and a dog, it is inevitable that even the best cleaning is doomed to die a quick death. You can be assured that by the time you walk from having put the vacuum cleaner away and to the front door to let in your guests – Someone will have tracked leaves all over the kitchen floor,  Someone will have put damp kitty prints all over the kitchen table and Someone Else will have sent a spray of kitty litter out through the front of the litter box – Needed To Go Right Now! Quite Urgent…

Ohh...Wonder What I Can Think Up Next..

Ohh…Wonder What I Can Think Up Next..

Now, I don’t know how many nooks and crannies you have in your house, but we have quite a lot. And even with the best cleaning (at least so I will claim) dust bunnies can magically appear underneath furniture. I think there is a black hole somewhere just for those where they can pop out from.  As my kitties are ever helpful, you can be sure that once I am seated with my guest(s), Someone Small will diligently dig out a dust bunny and proudly bat it our way. Not to me where I might be able to discreetly whisk it away – no always to the visitor. Look What Mum Missed! And It’s HUGE!  And all of this will be said with lots of chortles, acrobatic bounces and a penetrating voice to ensure that the visitor COULDN’T POSSIBLY miss the fact that the house isn’t completely clean…

Of course the cleaning itself is greatly helped as well. These days it is a bit lowering to realise that where the mittens (Somali girls) originally thought that washing the floor was great fun to help with, now they think the stiff broom is down right scary…. which probably means that I wash the floor less than the breeder they came from. Fortunately the dog thinks it is great that she now has sole right to chase it around – and everybody else are following me quite closely anyway. Naturally, the best place to be is on the piece of floor I have just washed – otherwise there wouldn’t be any paw prints, would there! Have To Show Where We Live, they all agree.

Scrubbing the sinks is another type of job that obviously requires close supervision. Turn The Tap On, Now! Is quite a common request in our household anyway. Usually delivered in a distinctive, braying tone of voice that clearly demonstrates that it is an imperative that needs to be fulfilled immediately! The fact that I might have the tap on to wash my hands or scrub it is neither here nor there according to the fluffy ones. Ohh – MY Toy, they say, See How Far Water Will Spray When You Put Your Paw JUST There.. And there goes the newly cleaned mirror again now all covered in water. Oops, they sneeze, Evil Water! Got In The Nose! And once they are done playing – Need To Wipe Feet On Clean Table Surface – Or Mum….

Hanging out with the dog

5 cats and 1 dog makes for a lively household. We inherited the dog from my mother-in-law when she passed away, and she arrived with us a slightly demented Lakeland terrier called Molly. Now, Molly had come to visit since she was 6 weeks old and had spent vacations with us many times, so she was really used to the cats and while distinctly cautious about them, still did her best to get on with them. When we got the two youngsters – Ianthe and Izabelle, our Somali kittens, the situation changed slightly…

No. You Can't Have The Ball. Ever. Nope. Definitely..

No. You Can’t Have The Ball. Ever. Nope. Definitely..

First of all – Molly has been brilliant. From the first time she was introduced to the two spitting, hissing balls of fur, she has been gentle and used superb cat language (we actually think that she genuinely believes that she is a cat..). The kittens took a bit longer to persuade that REALLY, Molly is very nice! Somewhere along the way they also managed to completely lose all respect for her, though… Instead, they decided that she was obviously The Really Big Punching Toy! Anytime something goes wrong – say one of them gets her foot wrong (when she didn’t intend to), one of the falls off something (which obviously they always intended to!) or one of them gets beaten up (by the other one or by Auntie Penny, our Maine Coon) – they head straight for Molly. BAM goes the paw – and What?!? Says Molly with a slightly puzzled expression on her face when she doesn’t chose to just ignore it and roll her (considerable) eyebrows. Punching the dog seems to be something that can be done while standing still and staring at her – or while on the run! It is obvious that all parties are clear that this is a friendly game, though. These days Molly doesn’t even bother getting out of the way, but then she probably reckons that it doesn’t make any difference anyway.

Things become interesting when we get around to feeding times. All the cats – except D’Artagnan, the old Somali – are keenly interested in food. Any food. Anywhere. Any time… And that includes the dog food… We feed Molly a healthy, dry kibble from Science Plan, and we can confidently say that it seems to be very tasty – both according to the dog and the cats! For when feeding time comes around it is a proper frenzy who gets it first! This is good news from the our point of view as Molly used to be quite a finicky eater. Well, that isn’t really an option anymore… because if you don’t eat as fast as you can – there won’t be anything left!! It is hilarious though to watch her with her head in the bowl, and at least 2 young cats with theirs in there as well, Molly and Izzie growling at each other and Izzie occasionally swiping Molly with her paw – all over some dry dog kibble…. Must be tasty…

As for the future – well, we are still waiting for the kittens to react appropriately to Molly when she drops a wet and soggy toy on top of them to try and entice them to play tug of war. Knowing Somali’s – it is probably just a question of time anyway…

Playful Izabelle

All cats have wonderfully different personalities and we see lots of that in this house. Indeed, with two Somali sisters, it is interesting just how big a difference there is! In a previous blog I talked about Ianthe – the Lovebug… and Izabelle is just as big a personality.

Lovely Izabelle - wondering what to pounce on next...

Lovely Izabelle – wondering what to pounce on next…

Izzie always fascinates me with her intensity of expression and her ‘wild’ moods. She is the one that will growl fiercely over the food, effectively pushing her sister away and hitting the dog to steal her food as well. All Mine, she will state. Can’t Have ANY! She has an ability to rest quietly – sitting with queenly grace while looking at her much less dignified sister – and then spring into wild action, tearing across the room and pouncing on whatever is at hand and you can almost hear how shouting YeeHaaw! Cuddles are of prime importance – after all she is a Somali! – and energetic stomping is the order of the day followed by enthusiastic encouragement to scratch her head and tummy with appropriate comments. Ohh! Just There! Now Harder! More, More, More! Again! She gives herself to the cuddles with the same abandon she does to the games – full on and with emphasis!

The other day I went to put some clothes away in the bedroom. I dropped the stack on the bed while I went to hang up a shirt – only to hear a protesting squeak. Though I hadn’t noticed it there was a bump under the bedcovers…. Izzie had made her way under there to hang out in her own personal little cave. This is where she likes to be. When the two of them cuddle in bed, Ianthe will be on my chest chewing on my nose – Izzie will be under the duvet wrapped around my hand, purring so hard that the bed shakes. Best Ever, she sighs, Love My Cave!

When she was a kitten she had a spell with an upset tummy. We used to call her Izzie-Bizzie because it rhymed well, but then her stomach settled down and we very quickly changed it to Busy-Izzie! Always finding things to get into, toys to play with and havoc to create. As I am writing this, she is energetically playing with a bit of leaf on the landing. A bit of leaf that she has chewed off my Yucca plant, mind you, after all we can’t possibly play with any of the many leaves that Ulysses (my Persian) faithfully brings in his coat, it has to be a SPECIAL leaf, on that she has found herself!  And she can’t use the one she chewed off the Yucca plant yesterday, either. Is Dead, she solemnly pronounces. Need Live One! And off she goes, leaving me with a somewhat sad Yucca plant filled with holes…