Meet my new boys, Douglas and Archie...

Over the course of the past two weeks, Douglas and Archie have taken over my life.  I know all kittens are sweet, but you’ve got to admit that these two are particularly gorgeous.  I do love tabbies, and I’m hoping Douglas and Archie will fill the void in the house (and my heart) since I lost Charlie just before Christmas.

I have to admit, though, that I’d forgotten quite how much work baby animals are.  I seem to spend my entire day cleaning out the litter tray, running up and downstairs with little meals and trying to make sure Mungo doesn’t get jealous about being shut out of my study.  (The webmistress has also included a photo of Mungo here so he doesn't feel left out!)  And if I’m not doing that, I’m lying on the floor trying to coax them closer.  They came from a cat rescue shelter in Leeds, and had been feral until they were about 7 weeks old, so while Douglas did have some handling before he arrived and is now well settled, Archie is still quite wild and runs away if I try to stroke him, which is such a shame as he is so pretty and looks exactly like Charlie.  I abandoned attempts to get him used to being picked up after my hands got so bitten and lacerated that it was all getting too traumatic for both of us, and am now concentrating on persuading him closer with bits of chicken and stroking him when eating.  It’s a very slow, patient business, especially for someone like me who’s always been one for instant gratification.  I’ve been surfing the internet for advice on socializing feral kittens but if anyone out there has got any good tips, I would be very grateful for an email! 

Douglas is a sweetheart, though, and seems to be permanently posing for a kitten calendar.  He purrs when I stroke him and rolls over to let me tickle his tummy and it’s balm to my sore heart.  With all of this going on, there is little time for writing, and it’s just as well that my next deadline is not until the end of July.  Amazingly, the short story went through without any revisions.  I can’t understand it at all, but am very grateful not to have to do any more on it.

I’m feeling much more positive about the next story, and have already embarked on a rough draft.  It’s going to be about a woman who falls in love with her own husband, and is set in a ruined castle in the Western Highlands of Scotland.  I felt like a really romantic location, and have imagined them on the coast facing Skye with the mountains behind them – you can’t get more romantic than that, can you?  I’ve been rereading Mary Stewart’s Wildfire at Midnight, which is set on Skye, to get me in the mood.  The sense of place is her books is always extraordinary, I think.  I’ve got some wonderful photographic books of the Highlands, too, and have been poring over them, with the result that I am now yearning to be there with the hills and the sea and the space – and no, I wouldn’t even mind the rain (although could do without the midges!)  The nearest I will get, though, will be Galloway at the beginning of July – beautiful in its own way but without the grandeur of the Highlands.  I’ll need to have a first draft of the book finished before I go, though, so I had better stop cooing over the kittens and get on with some writing …

*** Stop press!  While I was writing the last paragraph, Archie allowed me to stroke the back of his neck very gently TWICE!  This is huge progress, so am feeling duly gratified that my patience may be starting to pay off at last. Now, of course, I want him to sit on my lap and purr.  And love me.  Is that too much to ask??? ***