No, I haven't had a baby - too long in the tooth thank goodness. But Bluey, the ginger tom which has featured in my books in various disguises, has a new playmate. Actually, he's singularly unimpressed, even though she's a beautiful tabby with yellow eyes and a deep purr. He sits and looks at her, his tail flicking ever so slightly at the tip, eyes narrowed, nose raised in a sneer as she swears and spits and hisses at him, eats from his bowl and tries to sit in his favourite chair. He puts up with it all, walking away with a strut to show he couldn't care less, but then she made a big mistake, and he had to put her in her place.
Bluey is supposed to be my cat, but he adores him indoors, and at night insists upon sleeping on the pillow, or on his shoulder. Tilly, my new arrival and the second female person in this house to redress the balance, decided she wanted to see what him indoors was dreaming about, and proceeded to walk over him to investigate. Bluey was in usual position on pillow, Tilly trod on him, and at five oclock in the morning we had a full-blown cat fight going on on our duvet. Claws and fur flew, hissing, growling and yowling, then a hectic dash out of the room, Tilly going hell for leather down the stairs, Bluey stopping on the landing and metaphorically dusting his paws as if to say that saw to her!
But she has used her charm on him, and being gorgeous, has deigned to let him sleep on the front bedroom bed in the sun. We found them at opposite ends of the bed, both stretched out and purring, pretending the other didn't exist.
There's a litter box in the kitchen, umpteen bowls of dry food, wet food, water, the odd few prawns and bits of chicken, as well as a cat basket. I'll be glad when the two weeks are up and we let let her out - dirt trays aren't pleasant at the best of times.