Cat on a hot....

playhouse roof.

This is Tiggy. I know I shouldn't - but I have to confess he is my favourite cat. He is such a character. No one is quite sure how old he is. We 'inherited' him almost two years ago. I was in hospital and my elderly uncle passed away. Tiggy was his cat. No one wanted Tiggy. He was in a cattery, with a date set for him to be put down.

When I found out - you could say I was not happy. Without consulting my lovely long suffering husband I told my mum I'd have him. Then I had the job of persuading my lovely husband that another cat would be fine, and that he'd get along with our two - oh and the dog, oh and the children.

I was in Oxford in hospital. Tiggy was in Blackpool. My mum went to fetch him from the cattery. He mewwed and made disgusting smells all the way to us!

Whilst I convalesced, Tiggy and I got to know each other. He spent the first few weeks in a state of shock. Our house is not a quiet house!

He is a real character. He is not a morning cat - at all. In fact he is down right grumpy and goes about the house grumbling, whilst I'm trying to get the children dressed and fed before school.

This is one of his favourite spots. From here he can observe the garden, and yet is not in the direct path of children, their friends, balls, bikes, skateboards etc etc. If he isn't here, he'll either be on a bed somewhere depositing copious amounts of fur or mousing in the 'field' behind our house.

Tonight we had Roast Pork for tea. Tiggy scouted round and round the table until someone gave in and fed him a bit. He is now sleeping it off...

I think we may have pandered to him, but he is worth it!