I mean, yeah, I know it’s also a milestone that I’ve been in the UK for two whole years, but we’ll get back to that later.
My baby is five! I mean, it seems like I had only just brought home that tiny crying kitten. Now the Squish has been in my life for nearly five years. He will have been with me for five years at the end of this month.
About five years ago now, my friend found a box of newborn kittens behind her job. Not being a heartless monster like who ever dumped the poor things out there, she took them home and bottle fed them and cared for them. Now, she really wasn’t supposed to be keeping kittens there, in her parent’s old house that was supposed to be being sold, so she asked around for people to take them.
One I took was a tiny little runt of a thing. He was smaller than the others, but had the cutest face of all of them. So, yeah, I totally picked him for his looks.
After some complicated drama involving his sister and some other nonsense we won’t go into, I ended up deciding he needed some more playmates, and got some other kittens, Severus and Mjolnir. He loved them. Absolutely adored them. He’d been carrying around a stuffed toy and bathing it for weeks, but these were so much better for cuddling.
He’s now been the one to keep them grounded and settled through two moves, one transatlantic and one just down the road. He is the happy master of his kingdom, and I love his silly squishy face.