As you read this blog, I must warn that you will find, honest thoughts, ambitions, and hopes from my mind.
When I’m not pouring my heart and soul into my own blog, I like to read other people’s blogs. A blog that has recently entered my mind and heart is ‘A Little Bird Told Me.’ Jen’s way of writing is adorable and funny, so please go check it out (link at the end of this blog). Today, I read an old blog post of hers called ‘A Peek Inside My Living Room’, which included pictures of her cat that looks just like mine. So, as a result of this, I have decided to dedicate this blog post to my darling cat, whom I miss dearly. Enjoy!
My family has always been a cat family. When I was very little, my sister had a black cat called Magic, and then another cat called Cifor. Unfortunately, cats don’t live as long as we humans do, and one day there became a cat-sized hole in the Penketh-King household. We missed the snuggles, and the constant bugging for food. We needed a new fluffy friend. And so, when my aunty informed us of her friend whose cat was pregnant, we were in the car faster than you can say ‘newborn kitten’.
When we arrived in sunny Salcombe, my brother and I had to wait in the car while my mother went in to pick up our new pet. That was one of the longest 5 minutes I’ve had to wait for. The world literally changed around us as we say, bubbling with excitement. Eventually, after walking slower than a tortoise back towards us, my mother opened the door and thrust a meowing travel box onto the back seat. Peering through the cage door, I saw two big frightened green eyes staring back at me. Travelling home felt twice as long as it did the way there, but after a decade we ran into our kitchen and opened the box. After 10 minutes of kneeling on the floor and making ridiculous noises, something happened. Two little white paws emerged from the box, closely followed by a tiny black head with a white bit across the nose, with huge green eyes and velvety ears. Slowly but surely, our new little ball of the fur stepped out, looking up at 4 smiling giants. Welcome home, Carlos!
If you’re wondering why a humble little kitten from Salcombe is called Carlos, as I’m sure you are, then allow me to explain. As I said, my sister had 2 cats before Carlos, both whose name she chose. My brother has also had 2 leopard geckos, Roxy, and then Ronnie, who is still living with us today, on a diet of water and chirpy crickets (BLEURGH). Due to being at boarding school, and not being home long enough to have a pet and be able to care for it, I have never had the honour of naming a pet. After recently coming home from holiday in Spain which involved winning a bottle of champagne that I loving named Carlos Champagne (Spanish and alliteration – perfect!), I still had the name stuck in my head, so when the gift of naming our little kitten was bestowed upon me, it was clear that he would be called Carlos. This has resulted in every time our cat goes wandering away and we have to hunt for him, everybody speaks Spanish. As a result, the only Spanish phrase I know is ‘Donde esta Señor Carlos?’. Oh well. I keep waiting for one of two reactions from Carlos when this happens. 1. He turns around, stands on his hind legs like Puss in Boots, and asks us, ‘Why do you insist in talking Spanish to me?! I’m from Devon! YOU KNOW THIS DAMN IT WHY?!’ before stropping out the house. Or 2. He enters the room, dancing the flamenco, exclaiming, ‘Vamanos!’ (I got that phrase from Dora the Explorer… #SorryNotSorry).
Since Carlos joined our family, I have enjoyed many years with the wee fluffball, watching him grow from a cute, tiny kitten into an adorably fat cat. I’m used to the sudden movement of him moving around my feet, purring and clearly displaying his ‘cupboard love’ of which he is well known for in our family, until I feed him the smelliest of cat foods. I’ve endured the sudden hyper moments where my leg has been attacked suddenly as if it were a giant mouse, with each struggle resulting in the claws sinking deeper into my calf. I’ve snuggled and cuddled many a time on the couch whilst watching Downton Abbey (Carlos loves period dramas). I am unafraid to acknowledge that numerous selfies have been taken with my photogenic pet.
I am looking forward to going home in 8 days time, trudging up the stairs after a tiring train journey home, pushing my door open to find a black and white cat sat on my pillow, waiting to welcome me home with a snuggle. I miss Carlos almost as much as I miss my parents and siblings while I’m here, and I am so looking forward to another Christmas with a crazy cat attacking the Christmas tree and getting smothered in wrapping paper and tinsel. I cannot wait.
Well, my dear readers, do you have a pet that you are completely infatuated with? Comment below! As I said earlier, be sure to check out Jen’s blog, ‘A Little Bird Told Me’, through this link here: http://www.littlebirdfashion.com. It is absolutely worth a read. Much love to you all! Goodnight.