catsitting

For the past week I've been staying at my friends' house, looking after their four cats while they were away. There's Darius, in my friend's words the grumpy old man of the house, who likes people to watch him while he's eating (the number of times he's chirruped at me to follow him, then led me straight to his food bowl and started tucking in). There's Bianca, the quiet one, who likes to sit in the bath after I've had a shower and let the drops fall on her head. Then there's Scruffy and Leo, the aggressively affectionate young'uns, who have been having enormous amounts of fun with my furry gloves (don't tell my boyfriend - he gave them to me for Christmas. I don't think cat toy was what he had in mind when he bought them!). I'm all stroked out - four cats and only one lap! (And if anyone saw a crazy girl running around after a cat on Njalsgata around midnight last night, yes that was me. I think Scruffy had just discovered girl cats, and had no intention of being lured back inside) .