blamebrampton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
blamebrampton) wrote2009-06-09 09:42 pm
blamebrampton) wrote2009-06-09 09:42 pm
Biscuit the occasional cat
Young Biscuit seems to be well and truly abandoned and would have been taken into the Brammers household were it not for her determination to eat Cookie and Monster (NB, for irregular readers, the aforementioned are all cats, the first a neighbourhood calico, the others the household beasts.)
Most nights we will run into her sunning herself beside the space heaters up at the Thai restaurant and cadging fish from the diners and chicken from the staff (who are very sweet). She will usually walk us home and have a meal here, and sometimes avail herself of the new kennel on the front porch (lined with faux fur for comfort). Other nights she will find a warm spot and curl up in someone else's garden, or in one of a couple of the neighbour's houses.
Tonight, she has outsmarted herself. At some point before 7pm she has found a spot in the warmed place in the block, the laundromat. Now, until 6.30am-ish tomorrow, she is locked inside, wailing at the door and hoping that someone will bring her fish, water and a toilet. I fear the laundry ladies are going to be very cross.
On the upside, it's a freezing night and she has picked a spot that abounds in warm dryness, and it's not as though she's starving. Though I may have to buy the laundry ladies a small box of chocs if Biscuit's not skinned for weeing on their floor at some point over the evening.
Most nights we will run into her sunning herself beside the space heaters up at the Thai restaurant and cadging fish from the diners and chicken from the staff (who are very sweet). She will usually walk us home and have a meal here, and sometimes avail herself of the new kennel on the front porch (lined with faux fur for comfort). Other nights she will find a warm spot and curl up in someone else's garden, or in one of a couple of the neighbour's houses.
Tonight, she has outsmarted herself. At some point before 7pm she has found a spot in the warmed place in the block, the laundromat. Now, until 6.30am-ish tomorrow, she is locked inside, wailing at the door and hoping that someone will bring her fish, water and a toilet. I fear the laundry ladies are going to be very cross.
On the upside, it's a freezing night and she has picked a spot that abounds in warm dryness, and it's not as though she's starving. Though I may have to buy the laundry ladies a small box of chocs if Biscuit's not skinned for weeing on their floor at some point over the evening.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject