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So Marlowe and Tilda spent most of yesterday Looking at me - there's a favoured space at the top of the stairs which allows them to look at me at my desk, or down the stairs to my passing by. There's this disbelieving look - so what are you then? You're not A--. You're not even K-A-.
I persuaded them not to be in the front room went I went to the pub - as I didn't want them to exit just yet. They were hiding in the spot when I came back. I tried the Look on B-- at the pub, and he asked me to stop as it was disconcerting him. That's a new skill then.
And thus to bed - and all the paper crap I have yet to tidy is joyously rustle-able. Every so often there was a boing as one of them forgot themselves and got on the bed. I believe Tilda was there most of the night. Marlowe has moments of thinking she's a kitten, and bounced half way up the door frame to the second bedroom, clearly wishing to do a sloth impression.
Today I had to leave them to go to work until 7, and it was nearer to 8.30 time I got home. They at least came to greet me, but again had been shut out of the lounge to avoid escapes. As I ate my dinner they studious ignore me, and that's been the pattern, aside from one of my kitchen visits, and when I was really trying to finish three exam papers: Marlowe wanted the lap and to purr and be friendly, but not to be tickled underneath. Oh no. A little nip.
And now I realise the tidying remains undone - rustles await.
Most
I persuaded them not to be in the front room went I went to the pub - as I didn't want them to exit just yet. They were hiding in the spot when I came back. I tried the Look on B-- at the pub, and he asked me to stop as it was disconcerting him. That's a new skill then.
And thus to bed - and all the paper crap I have yet to tidy is joyously rustle-able. Every so often there was a boing as one of them forgot themselves and got on the bed. I believe Tilda was there most of the night. Marlowe has moments of thinking she's a kitten, and bounced half way up the door frame to the second bedroom, clearly wishing to do a sloth impression.
Today I had to leave them to go to work until 7, and it was nearer to 8.30 time I got home. They at least came to greet me, but again had been shut out of the lounge to avoid escapes. As I ate my dinner they studious ignore me, and that's been the pattern, aside from one of my kitchen visits, and when I was really trying to finish three exam papers: Marlowe wanted the lap and to purr and be friendly, but not to be tickled underneath. Oh no. A little nip.
And now I realise the tidying remains undone - rustles await.
Most
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