The Boo has been lamenting her lack of screen time with you all. I know this because whenever I get myself comfortable to blog of late, she comes and sits right across my arms, purring frantically and somehow managing to snore at the same time.  Which then stops me from blogging, because it’s quite hard to type with a cat balanced on you.  That’s my excuse, anyway.

And then someone asked me if she was alright, which made me panic that you would all think I’d put her in a parcel and sent her off to Uzbekistan with a fiver and an instruction not to come home until she’d learnt to stop scratching the carpets. On the contrary, The Boo is alive and well, and ruling the neighbourhood with a velvet paw.

For some reason I can’t upload a picture but I can assure you that The Boo has worked hard this summer on balancing out her white wine and trashy historical novel habit with much climbing of trees, balancing of walls and many duvet ambushes.

For the past couple of weeks, whilst friends of ours have been holidaying in Montenegro or Madagascar or some other exotic place beginning with M (not the Maldives, I know that much) we have been looking after their cat. Let’s call her Six.

Six and The Boo have a love hate relationship.  They spend a lot of time winding each other up, sneaking in to eat food which is not theirs, eyeballing each other and squabbling over who has the right to sit in the tallest plant pot.

Entirely unintentionally, Six once stayed for a sleepover. That was an eventful night.

And then sometimes, for no visible reason, things change in the Cat Cosmos. And they become the best of friends. They’ll sit peacefully side by side to watch Hedge TV, on opposite sofas to have an afternoon nap, or sunbathe within a couple of feet of each other without puffing up like blowfish. This week we’re in Friend Mode. Which makes a nice change from Enemy Attack Mode. No doubt the switch will flick back when we’re least expecting it.

Le Pomme calls Six a ‘proper cat’. She comes when she’s called, eats her dinner right away, and goes out when you open the door. The Boo, on the other hand, is a high maintenance model. For example, over the past few days, with all the rain, she has only been happy when the front door is ajar to allow her to sit with her nose out, surveying her kingdom through the monsoon.  To deny her this resulted in her flinging all of her furry weight against said door, and yowling like a toddler refused sweets.  Which is embarrassing when one has visitors, distracting when you’re on the phone AND bad for the paintwork.

It’s been a cold week.  Not as cold as Uzbekistan though, I hear.