Sounds like the opening line of a joke, but it isn't.
I'd finished the previous post and gone upstairs for my regular afternoon nap. Head down, pushed Aoife off me, ignored the phone ringing downstairs, mind beginning to wander over bits and pieces prior to slipping into a light dozing state followed by proper sleep, then BANG! BANG! BANG! on the front door. Had to be Susan. No-one else knocks that loud.
And it was. With a box in her hands. And in the box was...
A four month old grey and white kitten.
I haven't yet got the full story but Susan was gabbling something about a woman coming into the shop with the kitten in the box and because it was kitten she didn't want to turn her away and she felt sure I'd be willing to take it in and...
My ex-wife, with whom I remain on close terms, turns up with a cute kitten in a box so I'm hardly likely to turn it away. Besides, I'm still too used to letting her tell me what to do all the time so that when she says jump...
...I'm now fostering another kitten and already booked him in at the vets for a check-up and flu jab on Tuesday.
He's been here for two hours now and I have to say I'm quite impressed. He's sniffed around the living room, tentatively investigated Aelfric and vice versa as they touched noses, had a look at Tilly the grey kitten-cat whom he seems to find interesting, and he's settled down on different pieces of furniture. He's also quite friendly, pickupable, and likes being made fuss of.
Here's some more photos fresh off the memory card.
And before you ask, no you can't have him. He's so cute and bold that I'm rather taken with him so he might (only might, mind you) not be going anywhere. We'll see how he settles and fits in. First impressions are, however, extremely favourable.
To be continued.
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So this woman walks into our charity shop with a box and says, "Please take my kitten."
And we do.
This time.
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