Meet Thomas O’Malley:
He’s my very first foster cat. At the moment he’s watching TV in my lounge (I’ve never known a cat so fascinated by TV, mirrors, reflections and shadows) after finally figuring out how to use his litter tray after two days (you don’t want to know).
O’Malley – who I’m obviously calling Mal in homage to the captain of the Serenity – is a tatty, manky, battered and torn puss who’s lived rough for many months but loves humans. He obviously had a nice home and wandered off to find some ladeez, then couldn’t find his way back. He turned up at my flat on only an hour’s notice (the charity had nowhere else to put him) after being wormed, checked over by a vet, microchipped, de-flea’d and de-naughty-bitted (if you get my gist). It took him 24 hours to come out of his shell but he’s a happy lad now.
And, if I say so myself, he looks much healthier than he did on Monday night. All the food probably helped.
Anyway, I’ve got him until he can find a loving home with a garden. If you know of anyone in the Twickenham area or somewhere nearby who would like him, let me know. He’s too timid to handle children but he’s good with other cats. And he’s an absolute sweetheart!
Course, you may have to prise him out of my grip with a spatula first. I’m getting rather fond…