I Have The Best Cats

All Cats are Best Cats, Especially Mine

Sure, cats. My yarn likes being made into a nest. Photo by me.

It’s 4 am

I haven’t slept yet. My bedroom, in a Victorian tenement cellar in Scotland, is bloody baltic (ok 11. 1 Celsius to be precise), and the smaller of my two beloved dillweed cats is upstairs mewing loudly because she can’t find me. I fully expect the other to worry she’s lost me, soon. She’s sitting on me, but that rarely stops her.

Beautiful numpties

I have two rescue moggies. Found as the only 2 survivors of their litter, both had cat flu and some pretty rubbish infections going on. My smaller one has some airway issues, and I suspect she didn’t get the chance to develop healthily. The main thing we really notice is that she snores pretty impressively for such a tiny wee scone. She could charm her way into anywhere.

Smoll floof. view up nose. Picture by author.

The chonkier cat has one eye. The other was lost to infection. For this reason, as well as us living near busy roads, they’re indoor cats. Her confidence by far outweighs her depth perception, which can be hilarious. I regularly find her yelling at me to praise her for getting into weird high places that she miiiiight happen to need a little…