My surgery didn’t go entirely to plan, and this is my third night in hospital (I was only meant to be in for one). Aside from the drugs, making mum play 94% with me, and the good company from some pretty hilarious ladies, there’s one thing keeping extra sane: photos of my fur babies! Having mum here means I got to airdrop photos of the cats over and onto my phone, and every hour or so I open the pictures up and awwwww at them. I miss them so much! They’re so wonderful, they can tell when you’re hurting and they’re just warm and soft and sweet. Nothing like a good cat cuddle, even if they’re struggling to get away.

Pippa is the little one sitting on the arm of the sofa and Whiskas is the one looking grumpy and sitting on the sofa itself (top photo)! Both of them are rescues. Whiskas was found alone in a drain when he was the tiniest kitten, and Pippa was found stuck in one of those pipes that run down the sides of buildings to get rid of rain water. They’re such personalities! Whiskas is my old man cat, a whopping 18 years old, and has definitely mellowed out with age — he still loves a good play, but isn’t as agile as he used to be. He used to be quite the hunter. He loves a good brush, peace and quiet, and has probably never recovered from when me and Christina used to dress him up and pretend he was our baby. Pippa is the most nervous cat in all the world! She’s very skittish, and even with me (I rescued her, too!) she still takes a while to warm back up and get a little cuddly when I’m visiting home from uni. She’s five, and very much the baby of the family — and absolutely daddy’s little girl, she loves my father so much! She has the ability to get into the tiniest of spaces, is the noisiest darn thing, and has just the absolute softest fur. She has the face of a little owl but tail of a lemur! 

Miss them so much x


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