I love black cats but they can’t half be a challenge some days. No, I’m not still grumbling about it having been Sooty ultimately who did for the poor old Xmas tree. Well, go on then, this is still partly about Sooty. Why must he insist on sitting in the middle of my drive to wait for me to come home at night? My other two cats who have a healthy smattering of white don’t do it – just him. And so we hold the traffic up whilst I crawl across the pavement, straining my eyes for him lurking in the shadows (and more often than not end up having to get out the car to remove him before I can park).
I’m not over fond of collars since I realised the dangers of them (and got a microchip operated cat flap so my cats didn’t need to carry their magnetic ‘door keys’ around on them.) But we decided on balance it would be good for Soot to start wearing a reflective one so he could be visible at night. A carefully staged ‘casual’ conversation with Biff over tea got his interest. How collars can look really sophisticated on the right cat though they’re only for those who have those special distinguished features. Soots was virtually tearing the thing out of the packet by the time we’d finished. I know I’m biased but he really does look sooooooooooo handsome in it.
And then there’s my other little black cat Obi, fostered along with his sister Amara. Amara is a very pretty little girl, tortoiseshell and white with just the right amount of white to really set off her pretty little features. And you can tell that from the photographs. Obi on the other hand is sleek, jet black, gorgeous little face, handsome to perfection, but on his photographs he looks like something Mog has trailed in from the allotments.
accidental fosterer 