Django came in out of the garden this morning very very wet and looking extremely sorry for himself - and couldn't understand why I was not exactly delighted when he insisted he needed a cuddle. I did point out that there had been grey clouds overhead but he had still insisted on going out but he still insisted it was my fault, the way cats do.
Luckily the other cats were kinder to him. Here's Pepper checking he's OK (though the concern did not extend to letting him share his footstool in front of the fire):
Then tried to hypnotise me into thinking that he'd worked so hard he deserved a second breakfast. I ask you, does he look like a starving cat?
As you'll have gathered, I haven't much to blog about at the moment. Most of my time is taken up with either decluttering the house or with a project for Festival of Quilts which I want to keep under wraps for the moment. And the weather is too awful - rain and hailstorms - to go for any interesting walks.
Bixy says I should mention that the above photograph is cruelly unflattering and he is losing weight (admittedly at a rate that means he will reach his target weight in about two years' time) and that I am actually starving him to death...