After a week trekking back and forth from M1 to M19 to feed Pugling (Neil’s miniscule black cat) I decide the wretched ingrate is ready for some city-living so Dee and John kindly come and collect us in the car and we relocate the beast to a new habitat downtown. Some things you should know about The Pugling: he has only one ear; he doesn’t know he’s a cat, he thinks he’s a small hirsute member of the unemployed; he doesn’t miaow, he quacks; he won’t be told.
His behaviour is odd during his week in captivity, for which I don’t blame him. Only a flat to roam instead of an entire house, and no means of stepping outside to take the air unless I encourage him out onto the scaffolding that continues to blight our frontage. I was ready for this more than once given his rowdy behaviour, including being quacked awake at 4 am for the ceremonial ‘pointing’ at the food. I do think we formed a renewed bond during this time though. While I sang in the shower, The Pugling would stand outside the curtain and quack along. Writing was somewhat off the agenda though as the picture below will attest. That in the background is my computer screen, obscured.
Pugling has returned home now. Neil is back from France after two weeks sporting a farmer’s tan as predicted. I have started eating carbs again and blaming him. My cough has abated. I am not diabetic. I haven’t smoked in over a month. I’m probably going to live forever. This takes the pressure off finishing The Novel somewhat.
Computer game remixes. Seriously. Also indie indie indie for forthcoming mini DJ slot in October. You can never start planning too early. So, Echobelly or Shonen Knife? Hmmm ...