I am no longer catless.

Johnny’s mum brought round the kitten. I was afraid that it would be a short hair ordinary moggy, but I was handed this little white fluffball with eyes bluer than mine.

After a few careful strokes and he settled against me, not quite purring, but just little guttural noises.

At the moment he’s Kitty, I haven’t decided on a name yet.

He’s been fed and watered, he’s explored, he’s played with his first toy – my camera strap.

My first toy

My first toy

He’s got a light brown smudge on his head. I haven’t inspected the black spot on his eye yet, don’t want to scare him so soon.

Pooh! Flipflops smell yucky

Pooh! Flipflops smell yucky

His tail is a tabby tail, the rest is almost all white, or faint brown tones.

Iz fallin azleep on my newz bedz

Iz fallin azleep on my noo bedz

He’s now asleep behind me on the bed.

I’m tempted to name him Johnny after the boy who came to my gate, or maybe Bleach, because he’s not quite white… All my cats have been named after characteristics or circumstances. But he is Kuttiful, don’t you think?