Clockwork Cats

We no longer need a clock in this house, we have the cats.

9.00 pm every day Bella will make herself know with a meow and start brushing around your leg and Tom will thump to the floor off whichever bed he’s made home and come jingling out. He won’t rub your leg, he just paces from the lounge to the feed bowl and back until I get up to feed them. Half the time they’ll just stare at the food and disappear until we go to bed.

Fussy, yet regular. That’s our furry kids.

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