Introducing two very naughty little kitties who have come to live with us, Bobby (aka Bob Bob) and Bruce (aka Brucie).
For the past few weeks R and I have been getting used to sharing our home with these two fluffsies who, we have learnt, have absolutely no respect for (a) upholstery, (b) curtains, (c) clean bed linen (d) cleanly mopped floors, (e) the bathtub and (f) our sleep. Nonetheless, we have totally fallen in love with them, and seem to talk about little else at the moment than their kitty moods, character and welfare.
This one is Bobby!
And this is Brucie!
And this is their kitty bed:
We have become obsessed with kitty psychology (I swore I would never become that person) and our internet searches have included “how to know if your kitty loves you”, “why your kitty poos on the carpet”, “why your kitty eats plants”, “how to speak to your kitty”, “how to show your kitty who’s boss”. The last one needs more work.
We adopted them from Celia Hammond in Lewisham and they had previously been living with an old lady in a flat. Unfortunately she had developed dementia and was inadvertently neglecting her (many) cats, so they were rescued.
This was Bobby the first time we brought him home.
They had been waiting to be adopted since May so we were very happy to give them a home and show them the big wide world of South East London. At the time R and I couldn’t understand why such a lovely pair wouldn’t have been snapped up immediately. Now we know……!
We fell for them when we went for an open day and Bobby mewed to me from through the bars. When we went back a few weeks later they were still there and we took it as a sign that they were the kitties for us! After a very traumatic journey home during which they cried their little eyes out the whole way, we introduced them to their new surroundings.
We also changed their names - they were called “Tinkerbell” and “Twinkletoes” for heavens’ sake.
They are brothers (although I have a theory that they have different daddies – their faces are so different!) and are totally inseparable. They play together, sleep together, eat together and follow each other everywhere.
They also groom each other which is just about the sweetest thing I have ever seen.
Bobby is the bolder of the two, and the more vocal. One of my only criteria for a cat was that it would speak to us, like my childhood cat Maisie did, and I was not disappointed.
He cries for food, for attention, for strokes, to wake us up, for us to play with him, to say hello and goodbye and I’m sure for lots of other reasons too that we’re too stupid to understand. He is also the more high maintenance and generally babyish of the two.
Bruce is more of a strong and silent type and is a lot more cautious and shy. It took him a week to come out from behind the sofa when he first came home and he’s still a little nervous around new people.
He is, however, much more cuddly and loves collapsing on our laps for a good snuggle. They are both very affectionate and purr incredibly loudly whenever you stroke them.
We have had our fair share of kitty-related challenges along the way. The first week we got them, Bobby started sneezing and sniffling and had to have an antibiotic jab. Then a couple of days later, Bruce ate a lily leaf and had to be rushed to emergency kitty hospital and go onto IV fluids for 48 hours (he was fine, he developed no symptoms).
The following week, Bobby developed an extremely naughty habit of rejecting his litter tray in favour of a favourite patch of rug in the sitting room (that habit proved very hard to break). At around the same time Bobby ripped a hole in my curtain and together they chewed their way through all our chilli plants.
When we let them outside they got into fights with a local black cat over a territory dispute. Then we had a long, painful process of encouraging them to do their business outside (and not on the doormat – Bruce’s particular favourite place). Eventually they got the hang of it but developed a love of weeing on the gravel just outside the back door.
Now Bobby has started bringing in earthworms and depositing them all over the house, dropping them at our feet with a proud little look on his face. Mummy, Daddy, I brought you a squirmy little present! Bobby also still wakes us up every morning at 6.30 by purring loudly in our ears and rubbing his wet little nose (and sometimes bottom) against our faces. Lovely. He then pads all over the bed, purring and nibbling us until we wake up. I fear we have a long way to go…..
And yet, despite all that, we forgive them for everything and spend our lives worrying about them, telling them how much we love them and how clever they are, and cleaning up all their little indiscretions. In short, we are kitten-smitten, and I am not proud of it.
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