The story so far: Binky Mackenzie has recovered from his accidental, over-zealous-grooming-induced, defenestration. But his house is about to change shape again…
One of my hoomins disappeared after a while, to be replaced by a taller one that liked to dance; or rather, that liked to make me dance. Initially I was not over the moon about this; but any sort of attention is better than none, and as it turns out I’m a pretty slinky mover.
The house continued it’s shape-shifting, smell-shifting behaviour, but by now I’d grown used to such changes; a lap is still a lap, whatever colour the walls. Gradually, one of my hoomins seemed to swell up, which was a bit inconvenient as her lap shrunk correspondingly. But worse was to come – evidently she burst open, and released two small, bald, mewling cats, or so I thought at the time. These creatures demanded, and received, outrageous levels of care and affection. It was enough to make a cat’s fur fall out.
The pair of animals changed over time, coming to resemble little hoomins. But with stickier paws. I’m sure they loved me (I am a dapper, handsome cat, after all), but they were rather noisy, and I have a delicate disposition. I like hoomins, on the whole, but I prefer them when they are big enough (and sit still long enough) to have laps…
To be concluded…
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