Arrived home from C’s to poor Dusty, who’d been left out all afternoon yesterday and all night last night and all day today. On the journey back home, a police car had stopped a motorist and the two policemen and the said motorist were all on the pavement, talking. Of course I didn’t rubberneck

Anyway, Dusty was waiting for me in her usual spot, peeking out as she does. Very cute. When I had parked Henry and got out, I couldn’t see her (well, she blends in with the ground and it was dark: only moonlight and a branch-filtered street light to see by. I finally discovered her rolling on the ground, inviting me to rub her tummy. Of course, I was too late as she had obviously been there for some time. She punished me by getting up before I could touch her.

Once inside and I’d watched her eat, I phoned C to let him know I’d got home safely. I was interrupted by Dusty purr-miaowing at me and sitting half way up the stairs with an expecting expression on her little furry face. This means, “Play with me!”. So, I spent the next fifteen minutes lobbing a jingly ball up the stairs for her to either bat back down to me or to grasp with her claws, leaving me to unhook it and repeat. Sometimes, she doesn’t want me to get the ball back straight away and bats my hand instead. With her claws out of course. I have quite a few scratches from her doing this. Vicious little furry-faced pusska.

She sat on my knee for a while at the pooter as I typed, but was disgruntled when I got up to switch the telly on to watch The Watcher with the rather nice Keanu Reeves. She’s back again now, although she refused to lower herself into jumping up. She is curled up and purring now.

While I’m on the subject of pussycats, I should mention the cruelty that took place on Christmas Eve: Miaowy’s owners moved house and took her with them! I miss her loads, but I have to be positive: I won’t be woken up by her at 6 a.m. wanting to be out. That morning was the last time this happened. And the last time I saw her. And I was vaguely hungover. It’s so unfair, but she is their cat, even if she did spend her evenings and nights at my house.

This entry was posted on Sunday 11th January, 2004 @ 10.28pm GMT Europe/London and is filed under Life(style), Traffic, Travel and Transport and is tagged with breaking things, cats, Colin, Dusty, events, telly. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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