I wake up with the kitten every morning now – no matter how late we stay up each night.
She comes to sit on my pillow and she threads her claws through my hair and lets these little snuffling noises out into my ear. Sometimes she licks my earlobes and then we get up and have breakfast.
I have coffee, juice and toast with a bit of ham or bacon and she has kibble and a bit of ham or bacon.
I haven’t named her yet, but I feel like she’ll tell me what her name is when she’s ready.
I spent the days curled up in the big chair in the living room by the window. We read books and drink tea and watch the forest.
Bess tells me that watching the treeline is bad luck, but I can’t help myself – those flashes of movement are mesmerising.
Sometimes I recognise the little red birds and sometimes it looks like a body moving through the woods… sometimes I think I see Barbie.
I’d like to see her at some point – to say thank you for the little friend.
But, I haven’t seen her in weeks – I hope she’s okay.
I hope this isn’t because I tried to find her home.