Loathe as I am to remove the picture of Bunny from centre stage (I am rather pleased with it and yes, she's called Bunny), the blog waits for no one and I'll be nagged if I don't crack on.
Besides, she who must be obeyed, has insisted it's now time to make an entrance.
Betty was delivered to us as a rather scared and shy little girl in December 2001. She was born on a farm and so was somewhat feral meaning that adjusting to people, furniture, doors, hoovers, the usual habits of humans was all a bit of a challenge. Consequently, for the first three months, she barely showed herself during the day, remaining tucked out of sight under the bed. At night, it was a different story; in fact from day one, as soon as we were under the covers, lights out, up popped this little black slinky onto the duvet, ready to sink those needle-like teeth into some juicy toes.
As we watched orange coloured tins of IAMS turn into black cat, she gradually came out of her shell and today you will see her on her fave chair in the kitchen all day. She still has a thing for toes at night.
Anyway, lest I should sound like a batty old spinster who blogs about cats and knitting (whoops, there goes another slice of my available readership) I just need to credit Betty with the whole name thing. She said it would be purrrfect and she was right.