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| Balu in a box |
Mother's Day here in Spain was last week. In the UK it was in March, but today, Balu has been constantly hanging around either of his "mummies" (me or the dog) for love; for reassurance. That furball has idolized his dog, ever since she picked him out of the box when he was a mere 4 inch long scrap of kitten, seven years ago, laid him on the floor and washed him from arse to tip - with one lick.
Holly has slept next to her adopted charges, kept bums clean, supervised them to make sure they didn't stray, chastises them for bad behaviour and, many's the day I will wake up to find her playing with "her kid", rolling him on the floor, nuzzling into his soft belly fur and seemingly giggling, as well as sneezing, while showing no retaliation nor impatience with the painful claws in her snout.
Today, Balu got me up at 7.30 a.m., he's been on and off the desk half the morning and, unusually for that time of day, snuggled on my lap, "arms" around my neck, nuzzling me and purring loudly. He's been sat on the chair beside me and has been following and nuzzling the dog even more than normal.
Animals can always sense when their routine is changing.
Little does he realise quite by how much.
