We have a lot of cats. All different colours and sizes and ages. Some are from the RSPCA, some Cat Protection League, and some are waifs and strays who just wandered in one day. We like our cats. Actually, we really love our cats. Can’t imagine the house or garden without them.
This is Miss Holly Golightly. Yep, she doesn’t. Her sister Scully is very shy so I have no photos of her…
Miss Jessica Margot. Lived under a neighbours hedge for a while before we invited her in. Very talkative, given to Marge Simpson impressions.
Our gorgeous Fox, gentleman and Aga-lover.
The newest addition. Millie the Minx. Bought to our door by a neighbour after she was dumped in their field shortly after Christmas 2012. The naughtiest kitten we’ve ever had. No houseplant undug, no curtain unclimbed, no wool unchewed.
Our grand old lady, Lulu. She and her brother the beloved and sadly departed Elma were my first cats. She sleeps one side of me, Mr W the other. We get roughly a third of the bed each.
Francesca Madeleine the Sprog Princess. Found alone wandering around a factory aged about ten weeks. The other bedroom cat. Likes sleeping on hands.
The boy Heathcliffe. Shoulder-rider and heat-lover.
And Mad Prince Ludwig. Ludo for short. He has allergies so is having to wear a collar to stop himself over-preening a particularly sore spot for a while. Fingers crossed for the new medicine! Another rescue cat – found last winter stuck in a dustbin bag. He was so skinny, had a huge abscess on his back but still had the biggest purr you ever heard.
