With the dawn delaying its arrival until breakfast, and the lights
needing to be switched on for afternoon tea, Chloe's three daily squirrel hunts in the garden are becoming concertinaed into an ever-shortening time span. At times it feels as though it's barely worth removing my coat. It also means that there's a very long evening during which a lively young cat needs to amuse herself.
Boxes are a never-failing source of entertainment, but they can hardly be called demanding, and this autumn, with the arrival of the long evenings, Chloe felt in need of a challenge.
I think I told you of my beechwood clothes-horse whose huge delivery box was promptly claimed for games of hide-and-seek. All went well so long as she restricted herself to the box. But what enterprising cat could be content with a mere box once they've discovered a clothes-horse? Not Chloe!
This wonderful and unexpected edifice in the bathroom provided her with the challenges she had yearned for. It was tall . . . it was tricky to climb . . . and when, wobbling slightly, your paws finally gained the top rung, there was an undoubted sense of achievement.
Chloe took triumphant possession of the clothes-horse!
What happens to my wet clothes?
It's a good question. Chloe comes in from the garden and, en route to her favourite perch, happily initials each item of wet clothing with large, muddy paw prints!
I think that this picture speaks for itself.
Knowing Chloe's disposition, she could well be singing:
"Climb Every Clothes-Horse"!
