Cats

I like cats. I don't love them, though. I like having them around the house, in much the same way that I like having plants, although I'm pleased to say that my success rate at keeping cats alive far exceeds my horticultural triumphs.

I like it when Flea comes and lies on my bed and also when Tux comes to sit next to me on the sofa. (Up until recently, they seemed to have agreed to take the upstairs and downstairs as their separate domains but now Flea comes into the living room, too.) Sometimes Tux lies against me but occasionally, especially if I'm lying down, he likes to lie on me and push at me with his front legs. And I like that except when he gets over-excited and his claws pop out.

Dean, who popped up to visit, this evening, is far better with the cats, particularly Tux, who likes to be indulged by Dean as much as Dean appears to enjoy pampering him. Here they are enjoying a protracted love in on the sofa.