I was given a cat for Christmas.

Yes, I know that it is about as politically incorrect as you can get (giving pets as presents, that is) but my family decided that I was badly in need of a 'new' cat: my 'old' one, TT, (no, I won't embarrass myself or bore you with the origins of his name) died last summer after having been my closest friend for the previous thirteen or fourteen years.

The thing about cats is that you can discuss matters with them.
And, as this recession bites and the services of custom-built furnure makers become somewhat less vital than has been the case over the last decade or so, one really needs somebody to discuss things with!

TT and I would have met each morning sometime shortly after 6.00am.
He would have been out overnight and could therefore report well on the weather, overnight imposters and then comment on the timing of our meeting - a little too early and he might still be on his rounds and a little too late put him at risk of not being fed until after the main chore of the morning - getting Sue out to work on time - was complete.
I, on the other hand, would have been listening to international radio since the small hours and could, thus, fill him in on world affairs.

TT

'New cat' - we are still trying-out and testing names - Mossy and Annie are the current favourites - is, equally, trying us out and testing our quality and qualities.

New Cat

She and I are not on full talking-terms yet, but I get the impression that she would agree with the the principle of not being a Christmas present: too many people and too much going on for a person to check-into a new surrounding with comfort and confidence.

So we are postponing full-on bonding until after the house returns to its normal routines!