I’ve just been woken by an adorable squeaking meow and as I can see through the gap in my curtains (that has to be there as cat jumps up on the window regardless of whether he can see it and my curtains are almost new) that it’s not raining I slowly meandered my way to the back door to let my little adventurer in after a night of strutting and doing whatever cats get up to for hours at night (sitting in a bush?).

Before the door was fully open the cat had squeezed his ample body in and started shouting at me.  If he was speaking English it would be a tirade of swearing and insults but luckily I don’t speak angry cat. 

“What’s your problem?”  I asked.  (Yes I talk to my cat, and anyone else’s given a chance, not because I think he understands the actual words (although I still wish he did) I say but because I know he likes the sound of my voice, it’s calming to him and reassures him he’s home and safe.)

He looked (and felt, thanks for the naked leg rub!) absolutely drenched, quite literally as though he had fallen into a deep body of water and he was giving out so much attitude that I felt like I’d thrown him into that water!  As there are no rivers or seas near here the only thing he could of fallen into would be a pond in someone’s garden but he was just wet, not smelly or slimey or even particulaily dirty. 

I gave him a few guilt biscuits and snuck back to bed hoping he would start drying himself (by washing himself like cats do!) downstairs and fall asleep on the sofa as I’m obviously the evil monster responsible for his current situation but upstairs is warmer and why lick your self dry when your human changed the bedsheets yesterday to an off white cotton dovet cover just right for paw prints?! 

He is currently fast asleep on an old dovet I put in the hall to stop him scratching and he looks so peaceful… good enough to eat. 

Good for him, I can’t get back to sleep now 😦