A Pleasant Addition
I've made a pleasant addition to my rooms of late.
When I went to visit my Mum and Dad last, Mum asked if I'd given any thought to getting another cat. My last cat, Erik, died two weeks before I came to Hogwarts, and I wasn't in any mood to get another cat, obviously. Plus, with all the moving, and stress, and change...it just wouldn't have been fair to the new cat to bring it into my life at that time. Since then I've just been too busy, and the idea tended to slip my mind at any time when it was possible to see about finding a new familiar.
I do have one familiar--my tawny owl, Hester--and she's a dear, but owls just aren't the same. Hester comes and delivers my mail, perches on my shoulder and steals a treat, lets me pet her a bit, then flies off to the Owlery where she can hoot and fluff her feathers with the other owls. Owls don't curl up in your lap of an evening, or lie on your feet when you're in bed, like a furry hot water bottle.
Anyway, yesterday was the first chance I've had to go to London since visiting Mum, so I popped into Diagon Alley and stopped in the Magical Menagerie, taking a look at the felines they had.
As soon as I saw her, I knew she was the one. While the other cats pranced and capered, showing off, this little kitten just sat at the front of her cage, looking up at me very placidly, saying a soft, "Mrowr?" as I approached her. It was as if she knew I had come to take her home, and she was simply waiting for me. And somehow when I saw her I thought the same thing. I wasn't looking for a cat, I had just been glancing at the others before taking my kitten home, the same way you'd take a quick peek round a shop before grabbing what you really came for and leaving.
She's beautiful, with a sweet little face; large, bright, yellow eyes; soft grey fur and a little white face and socks. I've already decided on a name--probably the fastest-named cat I've ever had. Not long after we got back to the castle she was looking around my rooms, sticking her little nose into every corner, and in her curiosity she knocked over a small side-table, sending a lamp and the table crashing to the floor, nearly landing on top of her. Instead she flew under my bed and warily peeked out from under the dust ruffle at me to see my response.
I suppose it's all this business with Lord of the Rings recently that brought it to my mind, but somehow the name that came to my lips when I cried out in exasperation was "Pippin...!". It seems an appropriate name for a creature so loveable but whose curiosity can get the better of her. Anyway, when I said her name, she looked at me for a moment, then crawled out and rubbed her head against my leg, as though in agreement. So Pippin she shall be.
She's been making figure-eights around my legs as I've been writing this and just now hopped into my lap, and started rubbing her head against my jaw. I've learned quickly that this is her signal that she wants cuddles, and am more than happy to oblige.
It's only now I realize how much I've missed having a kitty these last months.
When I went to visit my Mum and Dad last, Mum asked if I'd given any thought to getting another cat. My last cat, Erik, died two weeks before I came to Hogwarts, and I wasn't in any mood to get another cat, obviously. Plus, with all the moving, and stress, and change...it just wouldn't have been fair to the new cat to bring it into my life at that time. Since then I've just been too busy, and the idea tended to slip my mind at any time when it was possible to see about finding a new familiar.
I do have one familiar--my tawny owl, Hester--and she's a dear, but owls just aren't the same. Hester comes and delivers my mail, perches on my shoulder and steals a treat, lets me pet her a bit, then flies off to the Owlery where she can hoot and fluff her feathers with the other owls. Owls don't curl up in your lap of an evening, or lie on your feet when you're in bed, like a furry hot water bottle.
Anyway, yesterday was the first chance I've had to go to London since visiting Mum, so I popped into Diagon Alley and stopped in the Magical Menagerie, taking a look at the felines they had.
As soon as I saw her, I knew she was the one. While the other cats pranced and capered, showing off, this little kitten just sat at the front of her cage, looking up at me very placidly, saying a soft, "Mrowr?" as I approached her. It was as if she knew I had come to take her home, and she was simply waiting for me. And somehow when I saw her I thought the same thing. I wasn't looking for a cat, I had just been glancing at the others before taking my kitten home, the same way you'd take a quick peek round a shop before grabbing what you really came for and leaving.
She's beautiful, with a sweet little face; large, bright, yellow eyes; soft grey fur and a little white face and socks. I've already decided on a name--probably the fastest-named cat I've ever had. Not long after we got back to the castle she was looking around my rooms, sticking her little nose into every corner, and in her curiosity she knocked over a small side-table, sending a lamp and the table crashing to the floor, nearly landing on top of her. Instead she flew under my bed and warily peeked out from under the dust ruffle at me to see my response.
I suppose it's all this business with Lord of the Rings recently that brought it to my mind, but somehow the name that came to my lips when I cried out in exasperation was "Pippin...!". It seems an appropriate name for a creature so loveable but whose curiosity can get the better of her. Anyway, when I said her name, she looked at me for a moment, then crawled out and rubbed her head against my leg, as though in agreement. So Pippin she shall be.
She's been making figure-eights around my legs as I've been writing this and just now hopped into my lap, and started rubbing her head against my jaw. I've learned quickly that this is her signal that she wants cuddles, and am more than happy to oblige.
It's only now I realize how much I've missed having a kitty these last months.