Cat Daddy and I spent the weekend in the Midlands, watching Brentford beat Wolves. And, whilst there (not in the stadium, obviously, but in the place where we were staying) we bumped into these two magnificent chaps:
Cat Daddy: “Is this, like, Black Cat Town or something?” If it is, I’m definitely coming back.
In other news, merci à Dieu et à tous ses anges: we appear to have a result with the new bed, with Louis Catorze finally sleeping in it the other day:
However, he hasn’t used it to sharpen his claws, not once. He is still using both the stair runner carpet and the outdoor cushions, and Cat Daddy has yelled at him at least 963 times in the last day or two for doing this.
I should be switching to his autumn-winter igloo from Wednesday onwards. However, because Catorze is so dense, there is a real risk of him forgetting that his spring-summer bed was ever a thing and, when I reintroduce it next March, he will most likely stare at it as if it were some alien life form sent to destroy the planet. Oh no, wait … THAT’S HIM.
So I shall keep it in place for a little longer but, as soon as October hits, only the El Día de Los Muertos igloo will do.