Naturally after two weeks of desperately trying to find them a home the prospect of losing two arms of our orange starfish is now kindling pangs of regret. Until it's time to clean out the litter tray, or sweep back the orange tide that covers my keyboard or blocks the monitor, or pick them off the curtains or my legs, my neck, my ow!
Mixed feelings. Seven demanding kittens is a number well beyond the internationally agreed limit for Health and Sanity (EC KIT/15726a/2004/aaaarrrrrggghh)
But they're cute and fluffy!
And follow you everywhere. Yesterday evening I took them for a walk. Hmmm, maybe walk is too mild a word for it. A swarm? An incursion? Whatever the word, we did it and the garden trembled. I wasn't sure if they'd follow at first. Previous outings hadn't seen them move more than a few yards away from the house. But this time they swarmed across the lawn after me. And Kai and Xena joined in too. I took them all for a tour of our enormous vegetable garden, through the twenty-kitten high jungle of sweet corn, the not quite so tall but exotically feathery colonnade of asparagus, the leeks, the runner beans, the kiwis and the currants.
The chickens were amazed. They lined up along the orchard fence and stared. What were those strange orangey things and why were there so many?
And then, the tour complete, our procession turned for home.