Our new year did not get off to the most auspicious start kitty-wise.
We returned from Wales to find that Bobby was nowhere to be found and a there was a smattering of bloody paw prints all over the kitchen floor. Obviously, being me, I panicked, jumped to the worst possible conclusion and decided that poor Bobby had injured himself and perished at the cruel claws of one of the local foxes. After two hours of ringing his bell and calling his name in the dark we were absolutely distraught. We made posters and asked all our neighbours but after a couple of days with no sign of him, we basically resigned ourselves to never seeing his little furry face again. The three of us started trying to get used to being a smaller family (Bruce actually seemed to thrive without Bobby) hoping that Bobby had found an indulgent old lady somewhere and was living a life of luxury.
Anyway, to our delight, after 5 very sad, very worrying days, he eventually came home to us! We found him at the front of the house, hiding behind a bin and yowling his little head off. I've never been so happy to see a tiny furry thing in my life! I gave him a very tight cuddle (he hated it) and a sound telling off. Bruce was nonplussed and proceeded to bite him on the head. He has now settled back in and has hopefully learnt his lesson. Anyway, massive relief all round, and now we can get on with the new year!
He was covered in ticks and had rather a nasty bite wound on his tail, poor little fluffy-one. But apart from that, he was the same naughty Bob-cat.
He is now having to wear a giant collar to stop him worrying his bite. He's not best pleased about it.
In other news, they have been loving playing with their Christmas presents!
When they're not sleeping, that is.