Neeps Vose a handsome cat whose black fur is tinged with red, arrived promptly by taxi. His owner was fully laden with baggage, consisting of amongst other things, three beds, a circus tent, a detailed feeding plan, an electric blanket, a radio and a three tier water fountain.
As his owner tried to find the correct cables for the each piece of equipment, I started arranging his dishes. Neeps Vose looked around with growing curiosity, his gentle nature reflected in his pale green eyes. He looked up at me, as if asking for permission before giving me a cursory sniff then rubbing his cheeks against my legs.
Not caring for a fuss, he inspected his carefully arranged belongings before retiring for a nap in his blue basket by the side of the sofa.
Neeps settles in quickly and soon moves from sleeping under the bed to taking up residence on the large purple armchair in the front room. This soon becomes his office, and from here he greets guests, raising his chin towards them for a quick face rub, performs his toilette and naps on standby. He is very polite and will always come when he is called. He wouldn’t dream of standing on the kitchen counter, instead he chooses to sit opposite me on a stool and watches patiently while I eat.
Neeps loves to perch on the cat tree in the balcony and watch the traffic and people go by. But if confronted by a sudden noise or unexpected sound he jumps in fright and scrambles to a place of safety, his ears and tale quivering.
Always the perfect gentleman, on my birthday he accompanied me to breakfast, taking the stool opposite me and pretending not to notice while I devoured chocolate cake.
The morning is the only time Neeps makes any demands, and then he insists on a cuddle. As I put on my running shoes he slips onto the sofa beside me, pushing his head and much larger body through the gap between my arm and leg. Snuggling into my nap he purrs, resting his head in my hand and refuses to move until he has had a proper snooze.
When I get up he will reluctantly head to his armchair to continue his nap, his paw hanging neatly over the side. Occasionally he opens his eyes leaning his face on his paw and checks to see if I'm still there.
In the evening when he wants to be hugged he puts his two paws up onto my leg and arches his back. When I lift him, he curls into my arms burying his his head away, determined to block out the rest of the world. I wrap my arms around him and give him a proper hug as he purrs into the night.