Goodness, that took a while ...

[blamebrampton]

That last month has been interesting. As is usually the case, after something very stressful, I fell over in a heap with flu. The annoying sort where one is febrile, knackered and filled with joint pain rather than the snotty manky kind where at least one is so obviously ill that one receives sympathy from all around. The obvious downside to this is that typing has been painful all month, the ridiculous downside is that I have spent many evenings languishing on the sofa with a blanket clutched to my bosom, apparently about to sing a charming aria regarding imminent death from tuberculosis and cold hands. Bloody Puccini.

That's not the only thing that's been keeping me from typing, there's this, too:

We bit the bullet and went to the cat pound. There we looked at many little cats who all performed great feats of cuteness in a bid to have us choose them. In the corner was a little black and white cat who looked at us, sniffed disdainfully, and went back to bathing in her little patch of sunlight. I picked her up; she was so soft and small. She nestled against me and purred for a moment. The pound woman said "Oh yes, that's Cookie, she's been here for five months, I don't know why no one wants her. She had kittens that were all adopted, and a best friend who was adopted, but she is always left behind."

I looked at her, and she looked back at me with a cat expression that very clearly said "Yeah, you feel sorry for me, but I know you will go away and forget about me." I put her back down and she went back to sunbathing, ignoring us while the other kitties continued trying to make us love them.

Naturally I decided she must be mine.

J and I went away to think about it for a day or two, the next day I rang back and paid for Cookie's desexing and put her on reserve. We went to pick her up the following weekend. I was worried about J, because it was too soon in many ways, but I thought that such a low-key, sweet and pretty little cat might be just what he needed to take his mind of Min.

We went to pick her up the following weekend, and J had several damp-eyed Min moments along the way. They brought Cookie out to us and she was very shy and diffident. I had a vague worry that I had chosen a feeble cat. We opened the little cat flap on the top of the carrier, she slinkied her way out of the hole, which is only just large enough to stick an adult hand through. Then she sat on top of the carrier, squinted at us and began to purr. Her domination of the Brammers household began at that moment.

Once home, she sat under the sofa for a bit, then climbed out to sit on first me, then J. We were won over fully by then. That night she played with some of her toys, quietly, and then came and slept on the edge of the bed for a while. The next morning we heard her running up and down the hall, but when we finally rose from bed, she was nowhere to be seen. We decided she must be hiding, so left her to herself for a while, but after three hours we began looking for her.

Not under the sofa, not under either bed, not nestled in the spare bed duvet, not snuggled in the fabric store in the craft room. We could hear the odd little jingle of her bell (I normally only bell outside cats (well, never Min, she'd have eaten it), but thought it would be a good plan for her first few days inside). After a few more hours of fruitless searching, I told J that the bell sounded as though it was coming from the chimney.

He agreed, despite the fact that it the chimney is fronted by one of those old-fashioned fireplaces that have a little gate to the chimney, it was only open a crack, but then, she is a very small cat. J took my camera and shot photographs upwards and downwards, not a sign. We tore the study apart searching for her.

My friend deense arrived, I apologised for not being able to introduce her to the new cat, and expressed some concern that she had been missing for seven hours and apparently I had managed to kill two cats within the one month. Hurrah. Deense talked me down off the cat-killing ledge, and made me watch stupid telly.

An hour later, I heard a jingle jingle. J came out with Cookie in his arms. Apparently she had been hiding in the soot at the bottom of the chimney and had stuck her little face out of the crack in the gate a moment before, with a chirpy miaow. There was great joy at the discovery.

The following week fell into a quick pattern, Cookie would wake us up to play with her a little earlier than our normal time, then we would go to work, then we would come home and she would fall upon us with glee demanding we play for an hour or two. When I went to write, she would sit on the laptop, which is apparently a heated cat bed, who knew? After two days of this, J turned to me and said: "We need to get a cat for the cat."

The following weekend we went to another pound, and looked at several cats. Most of them were too pale to live outside at all (and in the summer, we want them to be outside in the daytime, because our house is small and our garden is perfect for cats), the ones who weren't were haters of other cats.

We were perplexed; so many kitties, yet none perfect. There were a few cages in the adult cat area that were filled with older kittens, around four months old. J wandered over to one and found a little tortiseshell girl kitten that was being swiped to one side by her rambunctious brothers. He scooped her up for a quick pat, she scampered up onto his shoulder and nestled against his neck, then began to groom his hair.

And that was how Monster came to live with us. And yes, J named her, he is so terribly funny. They amuse each other endlessly and are unbelievably distracting for us. We still miss Min, we know that Min would have eaten them, but they are bringing smiles into the house, and we know that we rescued Cookie from a certain and imminent death, so that's cheering.

leochi's cat and Draco drawings have been making me smile of late, but I am still miles behind on commenting on everything. I am also miles behind on reading Worldcup. I think that I am doomed to remain so. I have a few things I wanted to talk about on the commenting palaver, but that involves me having energy enough to do so. Right now, it is time to return to the blanky and the kitties.