Kids and Kittens

Christine got a kitten for the children on Saturday. The kids were over my place for the weekend, but after Josephine's dancing on Saturday morning, we just HAD to go over to her place so the kids could have a look at the new kitten.

Sylvester is the new cat's name. Hmmm...

Now they already have a cat. A seven-year old moggy called Tybalt (Prince of Cats from Merchant of Venice or Romeo and Juliet, one of the two) who lives outside. Despite being knackerless, Tybalt has successfully defended his backyard against toms and strays who have at various times tried to infiltrate his feed-rich environment. All to naught it seems, as now Christine has brought home a four-week old bundle of fur, all head and huge lion-cub paws. I felt a touch of sadness for Tybalt. He wasn't too happy either, every time he was introduced to Sylvester, he backed away with a hiss.

The girls know, while I am not an out-and-out cat-hater, I do prefer to do things other than paying attention to cats. Like scrubbing floors, or unclogging drains or something else futile but necessary. OK, it's nice to have something soft, warm and fluffy curled up and rumbling on your lap, but get your stinking claws out of me you flea-ridden selfish animal. The conversation on the weekend did not get away from cats. I even had to take them up to the library to get some books on how to look after cats. I don't think I have ever spent a more invisible weekend with the children. Kitten, kitten, kitten, kitten, kitten...

The only thing that impressed them was the fact that I knew without even cheating and looking on the 'net, that the scientific name for a cat is felinus domesticus. I didn't tell them that I got that information from a Bugs Bunny cartoon.

Oh yeah, you better forget that "warm and fluffy" remark. It wasn't me. I didn't say it.