Stella is a
lovely cat in many, many ways, but she hates to be picked up and cuddled, and
she is definitely not a lap cat. (Roxie on the other hand is good with both.)
Occasionally, when Stella is beside me on the sofa or on the bed, she will deign
to rest her head on my leg. A major concession.
So, imagine
my surprise just now. I’m stretched out on the garden swing reading a New Yorker article when Stella gets up
on the swing and stretches herself out on top of me, purring up a storm. Unprecedented
and quite wonderful. Pity I eventually have to get up for a bathroom break. Will
this, I wonder, ever happen again?
Or will she
move back to what has become her summer home?
As Catherine
can attest from her recent visit, Stella loves
the turquoise bench, shifted from its place in the garden to the top of the
rock garden. She’s always out there when I get up in the morning and quite
often there when I go to bed at night. Definitely Stella’s bench. Roxie doesn’t
get a look in.
Which is
okay, because Roxie, thinking perhaps that she really is a tiger, prefers to
hide in the foliage.
Spot the
cat.
Easier done
than finding the snow leopard in this photo a friend posted on Facebook
recently.
Back to the
swing now. Will Stella rejoin me? Watch this space.
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