More cat capers, feline felonies, and fur-raising high jinks: a two year Truffle anniversary special

Last Friday marked the two year anniversary of Truffle coming to live with me: I vividly recall the long, foggy car journey from Leicester, during which the little ball of fluff on the passenger seat beside me cheeped all the way to her new home. Two years on, she is fully grown, with battle scars, a loving but feisty nature, and a healthy disregard for the concept of being anyone's pet - the cat equivalent of  'chattel', if you will. Would that be 'cattel' by any chance? One of the 'takeaways' from my recent post on why readers comment on blogs was that more pictures of Truffle would be welcomed. So I thought that as it is nearly a year since I last featured a slew(!) of photos in a post dedicated to my cat's antics, it might be time for another, and the aforementioned anniversary presented an ideal opportunity.

Coincidentally, Truffle (and cats more generally) have been on my mind this week, as I decided to apply to several national pet sitting websites as a carer in the Stafford area - specifically for cats, though I gather the big money is to be made on simultaneously walking the dogs of different owners, rather than visiting a single cat in its home. Be that as it may, cat sitting is my chosen calling, and accordingly I set about creating 'compelling profiles' about myself and my cat caring history, to persuade owners why they should award their cat sitting gig to me. You also had to compile a gallery of photos: these might be of your own cat, or other people's cats you had looked after, or both! One site required me to take a sort of online exam, and answer questions about how I would act in particular scenarios, such as 'the dog you are looking after has been involved in an accident'. The answer to which was either 'not applicable' or prefaced by the statement that I would be recasting this question to refer to cats. (Some of these sites started out by offering dog care only, and have only recently 'grafted on' cats, as it were.)

Here, for example, is my profile on Pawshake:

"I am bonkers about cats, a 'cat person' to the core. I have owned them all my life (insofar as anyone can be said to 'own' a cat - which isn't very far, obviously). My parents got a kitten the week I was born - possibly in case I was a disappointment. ;) The present incumbent is a two year old tabby and white called Truffle, who is extremely adventurous, with a special flair for tree climbing, shed roof leaping, and sabotaging knitting. She is also very loving, and a surprisingly compliant user of her radiator bed, despite its being specifically for that purpose. Some early photos of Truffle are in fact the first hit in Google if you search for 'bonkers kitten'(!). 

As well as my own, I have cared regularly for other people's cats for the past five years, and see cat sitting as an excellent way to get to meet more of these quirky and lovable creatures. I am in my late 50s now, and realistically won't have lived with more than eight cats in a whole lifetime, and even that has required a few 'double ups' along the way. If I pass a cat in the street I always say hello, and am also compiling a portfolio of photos of local cats randomly sitting on walls. If I get up to 12, I might have the makings of a calendar!

I specialise purely in cat sitting, in the form of up to two home visits a day. Job-wise I am a self-employed industrial market researcher, and when I have work it is very flexible and largely home-based, nicely fitting around pet care commitments."

Me with a friend's cat, Hector (early 80s)

If you click on this link, it will take you to my profile on the site, including a gallery of photos. (As if there weren't going to be enough in this post, haha.) The websites take about 20% commission, but look after all the public liability and vetting of clients side of things, giving me as their agent an added layer of security.

But on to what Truffle has been up to, 'up' being the operative word, for she is proving to be the jumpiest cat of any I have ever known, and the most given to perching on high surfaces.

High jinks of the jumping kind

Here she is caught in mid-jump between my garden wall and next door's shed. It has taken me many months of patiently waiting - and experimenting with shutter speeds - to capture the jump itself.

And here is Truffle climbing on top of the kitchen cupboards. She had taken to sitting there last thing at night, prompting me to put her old fleecy bed up there, which hasn't been in use since she was a kitten, when it acted as a (quite unnecessary!) booster seat on the sofa.

And there she is two years on, in her bed but considerably higher up! Please excuse the peeling wallpaper on the kitchen ceiling. That will all be tackled as part of a bigger project to combat damp in several areas at the rear of the house, pending the acquisition of work(!) and funds.

Supervising works

Speaking of my damp problem, another noticeable facet of Truffle's character is her interest in supervising 'works' of any kind undertaken around the house, whether by me or designated tradespeople. Well, I say round the house, but she was also extensively involved in overseeing (quite literally!) the decluttering of the garage, a much-deferred task of Augean stables proportions to which I dedicated a whole post back in the summer. Which reminds me, I have yet to write that post about the perfume memorabilia I found in there!

But firstly, here we are, changing the toilet seat. "You read the instructions, while I sit on the packaging." Cat owners amongst you will recognise this as a variant of 'sitting on important things', in this case an important piece of toilet seat-shaped cardboard I appear to have thoughtlessly discarded on the floor.

And here she is, keeping a watchful eye on the joiner's toolbox. "You won't forget to tidy this lot away afterwards, will you?"

And as billed, below are a couple more shots from the big garage clear out / clean up, which afforded perfect crossover opportunities for 'supervision of works' and 'perching on high surfaces'. Yes, Truffle was quite happy to get 'up and dirty' herself - you can just about make out a cobweb slung between her ears in the first picture.

"Is this really the best spot for the Christmas tree?"

Lying in wait at a major traffic intersection

Another common form taken by Truffle's 'sitting about watching me' is what I can best describe as a kind of 'lying in wait', to see what my next move will be. It is not exactly that Truffle wants to be with me, for it wouldn't take much to find out where I was in the house. No, it's more that she wants to keep me in several lines of sight at once - and where I cannot fail to trip over her.

Sometimes Truffle's curiosity gets the better of her, and she edges that little bit closer to where I am, though still without technically joining me. In the photo below she is heading off my access from the bathroom, a pose which doubles up as 'sitting on important pyjamas'.

And in this one Truffle is ever so slightly in the office, but not quite tipping over into a category I featured last time of 'Keeping my owner in line'.

Her expression is more one of mild interest I would say, rather than disapproval. Though she does still give me some of those looks too!

'Signature folded paw' gesture

The above photo leads me nicely into Truffle's signature paw gesture, in which her right front paw (always this one), is tucked under itself, something I wouldn't have thought was actually all that comfortable.

In this shot, another 'lying in wait outside the bathroom' pose, minus my pyjamas, Truffle is clearly saying: "Hey, I'll be the judge of whether this is comfortable or not!"

Impeding domestic activities

The signature paw pose segues neatly into the category 'impeding domestic activities', chief amongst them being 'impeding bed changing'.

Getting in the way of the weekly duvet change - on either bed - is great sport to Truffle, as it is to Val the Cookie Queen's cat Meeps, and possibly all cats! Truffle likes nothing better than to hide in the snowy folds of the outgoing duvet cover, or sprawl on the freshly laid clean sheet, much like protestors sitting down on a road. Only whereas protestors usually have a cause to which they are trying to draw attention by their blockade, Truffle's determination to sit on bedding seems to be an end in itself.

"Gosh, these are quite deep as fitted sheets go."

This category is of course merely another manifestation of 'Disobedience', which I had in the previous post, but it is such an ongoing issue that I felt it warranted another comprehensive airing. And airing is the perfect introduction to this series of photos of Truffle 'hunting' the old washing line, right as I was in the middle of trying to take it down and replace it.

Here she is, pausing in her savaging of the line for a moment to channel Tommy Cooper.

And now it is back to the serious business of chewing the line, while managing to do a passable impression of a flautist.

And finally, even Truffle has had enough. "Go on, Mum, put the new one up if you want...this one's definitely dead."

No post on impeding domestic activities would be complete without a photo of wool worrying. Check out that glazed look of ecstasy!

This time round I also have a picture for you of Truffle 'chowing on down' on knitting needles. Brand new ones to boot, that had only just arrived in the post as you can see. Perhaps she thought they were chopsticks that needed a bit of 'running in'.

Then, as you won't be surprised to learn, office-related disruption continues unabated. Stationery items, ornaments and perfume vials go missing on a daily basis, only to turn up months later in a terrified huddle under the bookcase or other sturdy and immovable object.

As touched on in the previous post, Truffle has always liked to play with sources of heat - and light - from an early age.

I don't light an open fire in the front room very often, but on the rare occasions I do, pyrotechnician Truffle obviously has to be involved.

The final category of misdemeanour involves unprotected upholstered furniture - Truffle openly flaunts the 'no sitting on pale fabrics' rule in every room in the house where she spies a qualifying chair.

"Any chair you were foolish enough to cover in cream damask deserves everything it gets."

And in case I have given the impression that Truffle is more wilful and disobedient than otherwise, let me redress the balance by adding a picture that shows her still compliantly using her radiator bed, whilst also being suffused in light in a somewhat spectral Close Encounters kind of a way.

Staying with our 'suffused in light' theme, here is fellow blogger Sabine playing with Truffle during her visit on a sunny day last June.

So yes, Truffle is very much a cat who walks by herself, yet who likes to know where I am much of the time. "I've got my eye on you....."

Bonkers about Perfume turns seven! (And ponders on the 'seven year itch'...)

Photo courtesy of Annette Tudor of Tiers & Tiaras

Well, notwithstanding the elephant pictured further down this post, with its reputed ability to remember things, I appear to have missed my seventh blog anniversary by a day(!). That is not actually much of a margin for me, taking the long view. I am sure I have missed it by weeks or even months in past years. For yesterday I found myself engrossed in the task of sourcing a specific combination of wool shades for a couple of custom beanies I intend to knit for Portia of Australian Perfume Junkies, and the significance of the date completely passed me by. Portia won't need the hats imminently, as it is of course spring down there, but I do like a challenge and to get ahead of myself. And to avoid doing the housework instead. So that was tangentially perfume-related at least, in the course of which I also learnt how many subtly different shades can loosely be construed as peach!

But yes, seven years - how did that happen? 579 posts to date, which isn't much by today's fast paced, news ticker-type media standards, but I guess each one takes me 4-5 hours on average. Which sounds like an awful long time in terms of the output achieved, but I must have rather a ponderous blogging MO. ;) On a whim I did a quick calculation and that adds up to 413 working days ie more than a year of just blogging!

I mention the 'seven year itch', because I feel I am at a bit of a crossroads. For a while there I thought I was in the perfume doldrums, but my interest can easily be rekindled by a well-timed recommendation from a friend who knows my taste well - big thanks are due to Val CQ Sperrer, Undina, Tara, and Sabine in particular for periodically recranking my perfume mojo. But what has changed for sure is that when unleashed in the perfume department of even a high end emporium like Fortnum & Mason or a specialist store like Bloom, I am no longer that 'kid in a sweet shop' eager to try everything in sight, preferring to stand back, chatting to whomever I am with, and sniffing the odd scent that is pointed out to me - usually because someone has literally handed me strip sprayed with the scent in question! So I appear to have very little self-motivation anymore to seek out new things, which is a new phenomenon.

Still getting a kick from well organised top colours

It doesn't bother me though, as my stash has grown to such unwieldy proportions that from a purely practical point of view it would be bad news if I was lusting after umpteen full bottles of this and that. A 10ml decant of most fragrances that take my fancy these days is quite enough, thank you.

I do additionally seem to have experienced a bit of 'decanter's blues' - a very niche condition as you can imagine!- whereby every time I go to make samples of scents, I get drenched in at least one if not several of the perfumes I am decanting. This is mainly down to a mix of leaky nozzles and the issue of 'blow back' once the vial fills up to a certain level. A level that seems to be getting lower, haha, or that is my observation.

And I guess I was also very chastened by my recent experience of getting rapped over the knuckles by the Royal Mail for attempting to post bottles internationally. That put a real spanner in the works just as I was setting out to monetise some of my stash, and I am indebted to the recipients for helping share the loss. Occasionally even now I am tempted not to bother with a hazard sticker on packages containing one or two samples within the UK, but I cannot risk being caught out again, or I might end up sharing with Rolf Harris in Stafford clink after all!

So given the limited opportunities to offload my perfume collection further afield - I could hold an open house, like Lila das Gupta recently, but Stafford is rather far away for people! - I have turned to knitting as a potential little income stream instead.

My avatar for Runraglan Knits

Oh, and of course since my diagnosis of eyelid eczema in the summer, I have been wearing makeup very sparingly if at all, so as not to tempt fate. I don't think perfume is a trigger, but often I don't bother putting it on either unless there is something I particularly want to try, which as we have just established is not very often these days. A little bit of me thinks it has to be better to limit the amount of chemicals coming into direct contact with my skin. Which isn't like me at all, or the me of old. Why, I have even blogged about the risk or otherwise of chemical overload in the early days of Bonkers, including in my post an amusing quote by Tania Sanchez on the subject if anyone is curious. At the time I was more concerned about my moderate alcohol consumption than being a 'walking chemistry set', but seven years on, the reference to people with allergies has rather come home to roost...certainly as far as toiletries more generally are concerned.

All of which sounds a little subdued or even downbeat, which truly wasn't my intention, yet every so often I start to wonder if I should leave blogging to the old timer behemoths and the new generation coming through, and redeploy the time gained to other activities, like cleaning the house(!), eBaying unwanted belongings, or writing the book that friends have claimed is 'in me'. But you would think that if such a book ever was in me, it would have long since worked its way out again by now...

Yeah, I confess to being an absolute shocker for lacking application, tending to tick off the quick and easy things on my 'to do' list rather than the big ones, to get that instant buzz of faux productivity, when you may only have put the bin out, paid a bill, and picked up the grapestalks the cat has strewn over the carpet. That said, I am proud that I lost my eBay seller's cherry this year, an idea that had previously languished for years in the 'too hard' box, even though I knew it would be a good way of decluttering for profit.;) And my new knitting venture, Runraglan Knits, now has its own Facebook page as of this week, and a few orders in the bag.

This is also almost the first anniversary of my having Truffle, who - although she is starting to bring in the odd field mouse now (all alive and intact, I hasten to add, and safely escorted off the premises!) - is an endless source of delight and amusement in my life. Here she is at just this time last year.

And finally, though I have said it numerous times before, it bears repetition, namely that my interest in and affection for the people I have met through this hobby has never wavered, and if anything gets stronger from year to year. So whether my perfume mojo is firing on all cylinders or quietly sputtering away like those gas rings you haven't turned on properly, I remain fiercely attached to my fumehead friends who help me weather the bumps on the road in perfume terms - or deal with the ups and downs (I would say "vicissitudes" but it sounds awfully wordy, even for me) of life in general.

Coming up soon...musings on Angel Muse!, and a bathroom makeover special, in which I share all the many lessons learnt along the way in my capacity as self-styled 'clerk of works'. There will be no perfumes kept in the bathroom, it goes without saying. Which takes me right back to the beginnings of Bonkers again...

"Keep Me"...safe - my Penhaligon's perfume pendant-protected puss!

I will be back presently with more substantial perfume posts - okay, somewhat less tangential perfume-related posts might be nearer the mark - but I have been away this weekend, and just have time to mention another rather fortuitous perfume/cat crossover, also involving Truffle's collar, as it happens!

For the kitten has been coming and going outside unsupervised for the past week now - I am gradually getting used to the feeling of not even knowing for sure whether she is in or out. She has been wearing a fabric collar (not the Gucci watch strap, sorry!) for a while now, onto the inside of which I wrote my mobile phone number with indelible marker pen.

I was conscious, however, of the fact that anyone who found her might not think to take the collar off and look on the inside, just as it might not occur to them to have her scanned for a chip, even though she has one. So I decided that the best way to make the kitten readily identifiable to the casual passer by was via a visible tag hanging off her collar.

After extensive Internet searches, I ordered three hand-stamped small tags on the Internet - well, it is always good to have a spare, and they were all so cute, and in such attractive metals and designs! Two are coming from an Etsy company in Florida that rejoices in the name of Critterbling. They are being sent first to Undina, as the company doesn't ship overseas, and she is kindly forwarding them on to me using our tried and tested mule service (aka a travelling colleague).

The other one was made in Quebec by another Etsy seller called M J Lessard, and it has just landed!

But because of the leadtimes involved with these transatlantic tags, I lit upon a cunning temporary solution, also one which would gradually accustom Truffle to wearing something around her neck. For my 50th birthday, my friend Clare gave me a perfume bottle pendant from Penhaligon's. You are supposed to commit a fragrance to the egg-shaped receptacle, from which you can refresh your chosen scent periodically using the dipper built into the screw top. (Well, me being me, obviously I never did any such thing, and the bottle remains empty to this day.)

The pendant has been worn though, most notably to my 'transcentendal meeting with Bertrand Duchaufour' on the occasion of the launch of Penhaligon's Amaranthine. Ooh, that is a genuine typo, but I rather like my new coinage...!

Now in addition to the chain the bottle hangs on, there was a tiny little rectangular tag on a separate loop. You could engrave the name of the perfume on it, I suppose, or your own name maybe. It bugged me ever so slightly, mind, because it made you tinkle when you walked. (In the auditory sense of the term, I hasten to add.)

But suddenly I spied a use for it as an improvised Truffle tag, and had the chap at Timpson's in town fetch it off the main chain and engrave my landline number on it instead! There was no room for the dialling code, but I am hoping that the chances of Truffle wandering out of the whole of Stafford are remote, though her territory is growing by the day.;)

When I got home, I slipped the tag on the kitten's collar in a trice and it hasn't bothered her in the slightest - no dangling in the food or anything else untoward. The plan is to upgrade to the slightly larger round tags when she is a little bigger and well used to the principle, though I don't foresee any problems based on how well she has adapted so far.

And here finally is a shot of her enjoying the sunshine the other day. Tagged, chipped, marked, and ready for action!

Kitten Incorrigible - a Truffle-centred festive feline special featuring the twelve tics of Christmas!

ILLUSTRATION ADVISORY!! By any yardstick, this blog post contains an unequivocally excessive number of kitten photos.

Years ago, back when I used to write a humorous column for a local business magazine, I did a piece on the idiosyncrasies of my satnav:

"Fast forward two years and my SatNav and I are like an old couple: I know its strengths and weaknesses and its quirky little ways.  This is the story of our relationship, from the initial feeling of wonder to the more realistic view I hold of it today..."

Well, I have lived with my kitten for six weeks now, which may well equate to two years with an in-car gadget. And I can say with conviction that I have both a realistic view of her little tics and quirks and an ongoing sense of wonder. She is absolutely enchanting - and as the vet said on her first visit there, also 'a little bit demented'...

So, especially for those readers who are not on Facebook, and have not been subjected to a relentless slew of photos on there - it has got so bad that I actually have to put 20p into the kitten pic-posting equivalent of a 'swear cottage' now - I thought I would do a round up of some of Truffle's little mannerisms, six weeks in. This list is by now means exhaustive, but I don't want to exhaust your patience!

You post pics, you pays!

Automated bed bath programme 

Since my previous post, I can report that at night Truffle is still sleeping (pretty solidly!) in the trough between the two sets of pillows in the bed - either bed in fact, as I swapped rooms the other day, having stripped the bed in the master bedroom and completely forgotten to make it again - and she immediately recce'ed the equivalent spot between the pillows in the spare room and 'assumed the position'.

Then, somewhere between 8am and 8.30am, which isn't shockingly early as that is usually when I spontaneously start to stir, an 'automated wash programme' kicks in, whereby Truffle, with her little pink Brillo pad of a tongue, begins slowly and systematically to wash my eyelids, nose, chin, cheeks - and if I still fail to show any vital signs - will burrow under the covers and start on wrists, elbows or any other exposed body part she can find. This invariably does the trick and I get up immediately and feed her, which was of course the whole point.

Photo appears to feature a freshly washed thumb.

Then I have a bath, and Truffle will perch on the edge, or sit inside the wash basin peering over the rim, or even on my head. Whatever vantage point she chooses, she invariably looks puzzled. You just know she is thinking: 'What's with all this water business? - sure I washed you earlier!'

'Plug 'n' play' fun and getting to grips with the recycling

And when I have got out of the bath, and the water - which two unfortunate dips have taught Truffle she does not like - has all gone, she will jump in after me, rush around for a bit chasing her tail, and also deliver a few left hooks to the plug on a chain, which makes a rewarding clinking noise as it ricochets off the cast iron tub. The other day she discovered how satisfying it is to chase the empty toilet roll inner around inside the bath. I have yet to train her to put it in the appropriate bin.

Monitoring flannel rotation and policing filched toiletries

I am a devotee of the Liz Earle Cleanse & Polish hot cloth system, though for reasons of better buffability I have long since substituted a flannel for the muslin cloth supplied. I keep a basket of flannels at the end of the bath, while the one currently on the go is draped over the metal handle on the side. One morning I am sure Truffle was giving me a disapproving look as though to say: 'I think you'll find that this flannel has been in use for some considerable time already.'

Staying with our theme of endless (empty) bathtime fun, I found Truffle playing with a little miniature shampoo bottle the other day. Her accusatory stare in the photo below clearly means: 'So you say you stole this from a hotel? I am confiscating it right now!'

Aspiring toilet attendant

Truffle is a diligent user of her litter tray these days, in fact, she loves it so much that she also enjoys scooting the litter far and wide for the hell of it. Also, when she clocks me removing clumps, she runs over immediately to try to cover up her doings even more, even as I am endeavouring to dig them up.

Completely gratuitous digging

Office assistant

Truffle basically follows me everywhere I go in the house, including the 'office', as I call the back bedroom I use as a study. She helps me with paperwork by sitting on it, batting pens around, walking over the computer keyboard and sitting in front of the screen, effectively blocking it. She also shows a lively interest in the blind cord, which she cuffs with her paw, and enjoys climbing up the bookcase, knocking down ornaments - and also Christmas cards at the moment - in her wake, to reach the button-backed pins on the pin board, which she loves to chew. 

Tired out from all that helping

Button chewing and locket lunging

The button chewing almost deserves a category of its own, as it is a wide-ranging fetish that extends to any button on my clothes, duvet covers etc. I have yet to show her the contents of my button box, as that way could lie sensory overload and emergency gastric surgery. She does seem to have a penchant for putting all sorts of inappropriate items in her mouth and having a go at eating them, including paper clips, pine cones, dead matches, the wrapper of a feminine hygiene product over the precise identity of which we shall draw a veil, and supermarket receipts.

Then whenever she is on my lap Truffle also leaps up at my silver locket, whose tantalising mix of 'swingy' and 'shiny' is proving irresistible.

'A View to a Kill...'

Flex flicking and fascination with fronds

It is frankly a miracle that there are still any working electrical appliances in this house, as Truffle is completely fascinated by flexes of all kinds. The iPhone lead has visible tooth marks on it, and I am constantly on the look-out for places to charge my phone which she might overlook. Ironing is also a particular challenge - both in terms of the iron cord and the extension cable I plug it into...and don't even get me started on the Christmas tree lights!

Truffle's enduring fascination with leafy plants - the foofier and frondier the better - has proved most problematic, and owing to the toxicity of some of her leafier favourites, the cheese plant has been binned and the dracaena and sago palm rehomed with Vera across the road, who is noted in the street for providing a last chance saloon for plants that are unloved, peaky or downright hazardous, as in the present case.

The 8 foot tall ponytail palm is mercifully benign!

 Wool sucking and knitting wars

The first time Truffle started to suck my jumpers and make lapping noises while burrowing deep into my lap, I was a little alarmed. Having looked this phenomenon up on the Internet, I gather that she is simply nostalgic for her mother's and grandmother's milk, and is checking out the lactating potential of my wardrobe of woollies - so far to no avail. Meanwhile, it is proving nigh on impossible to knit while Truffle is around, as she can't resist grabbing (and biting!) the ends of the needles and taking a swipe at the constantly dancing strand of the ball of wool. Which she would also suck if I didn't intercept her sharpish. I have already swapped to shorter, less provocative needles, but my knitting projects continue to beguile.

The knitting equivalent of contributory negligence

Chasing patterns on tableware

Truffle is still primarily eating sachets of wet food, though she can graze on a bowl of small bore kitten kibble through the day. It's a bit of luck really as I can't get her to drink water. Instead, she seems mesmerised by the patterns on the dish and saucer, and shoves them across the kitchen floor like a more embellished version of an ice hockey puck.

Wainscot woodlice vigils

Okay, so I may in fact mean skirting board, but the alliterative urge won out. For Truffle has recently taken to staking out a couple of little holes either side of the panelling by the kitchen door, sitting there rapt for minutes at a time. I take this to be a woodlice vigil, and am encouraged that her hunting interest is already so keenly developed, suggesting that one day she will also be good for spiders of all gauges.

Hiding in waste paper baskets

I am pleased to say that Truffle's under the bath hiding days are over. The vet said it was inadvisable, for as she grows she might get stuck in there and impossible to extract without completely dismantling the bathroom fixtures. Accordingly the hole is now well and truly wedged with bags of tights that mould to fit the oddly shaped gaps, a sponge bag, toilet roll, and a bottle of lavatory cleaner. Meanwhile, Truffle has taken to hiding in the dining room waste paper basket, which I very much hope is not indicative of self-esteem issues. 

'You are so not rubbish!'

Comprehensive obstruction of the laundry process

I was talking to Val of APJ the other day about the difficulty of seamlessly changing bedding with a kitten in tow - or as it turns out, her grown up cat, Meeps, who also likes to lounge sybaritically on the very sheet / mattress protector you are trying to remove / smooth out etc. 

Pointy ears temporarily tamed by pillow packaging

Truffle is an absolute past mistress at this, and having raked around and stuck her head into everything that has an opening, she likes nothing more than to adopt an Odalisque pose on the duvet which you have still not managed to change.

So there you have it, Truffle's Twelve Tics of Christmas...Oh, and here is one for luck...like her owner, Truffle enjoys a festive tipple.

Including a nice G & T, I am pleased to say!

Gin & Truffle

It just remains to wish readers everywhere a very happy Christmas from the two of us, and to ask you to share with us your own cat's idiosyncrasies - it might help me feel that my kitten is a little bit less demented!

Looking deceptively tic-less

Oh, and here - and at the top of the post - you can see my deliberately tiny, fake, low down, tinsel and soil-free Christmas tree. Kitten access to it is strictly supervised, but she still manages to have a jolly good pop at the low-hanging baubles.

Star made by a friend and dedicated to Truffle on the back!