I'm not claiming to be a world expert on body language or animal behaviourism, but I think I can recognise mild concern when I see it...
It's the pleading look in the eyes which says "Help me". And "Stop taking my damn photo".
Under normal circumstances, of course, I'd move heaven and earth to help a kitten in distress, but at the time I was more focused on the fact that Amelie appeared to be morphing into Vishnu, the multi-armed Hindu deity. It's only a week since she developed stigmata, so I wasn't going to miss her latest religious miracle. She could be on the verge of making me a fortune.
In reality, however, the man behind the cruelty, and the first bloke ever to give my daughter the elbow, was none other than our good friend Stefan...
The orange book in front of him is this one. It's never far from my coffee table.
As it happens, Stefan's coming to work with me in just a couple of weeks, so I thought I'd lend him a bit of bedtime reading matter before he starts. It's important to get some rest before embarking on a new career, and that should send him to sleep in no time.
But my vast library of medical textbooks (I've got two) wasn't the only reason we received a visit from Stefan and Andrew this afternoon. They also wanted to inspect the kittens...
The concerned cat in the first photo above has been reserved by our good friend H. Although she needs to check that her pet insurance covers post traumatic stress disorder. The other two kittens will be going to Stefan and Andrew. That's assuming they survive another week or two with Amelie. She looks particularly pleased in that picture, because she's succeeded in her dastardly plan to distract everyone's attention by wearing odd shoes, so that she can subtly cover Shimmy with a cushion.
It goes without saying that our generous gift of two kittens has pretty much ensured constant happiness for Stefan and Andrew for the next eighteen years, but to be fair, they've done the same for us...
They brought us some 'Don't Have Ugly Children' Beauty Gum, "as used by the world's most perfect families". I tried a piece, and frankly it proved that when it comes to beauty, it's a case of no pain, no gain. I certainly felt the burn. It was like chewing on a chilli pepper.
The good news, however, is that whilst we can't guarantee the gorgeousness of our offspring, we can be pretty sure the kittens are in good hands. I was worried about them being upset when they leave us, but on the evidence of this afternoon, they won't give us a second thought. Andrew only had to sit on the sofa, and the kittens swooned all over him...
Either he has a natural affinity with felines, or he's got catnip in his jeans.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
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2 comments:
Maybe he'd like to adopt Chloe and Shimmy as well for 3 or 4 months. Amelie was telling me - with an air of great authority - how cats like to sit on top of little babies, as they like the smell of the milk they drink.
I think the great authority on that story was my mother. She's no stranger to terrifying her grandchildren.
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