When I was about ten, my family lived on a linguistics town in Papua New Guinea, where people came from around the world to learn some of the hundreds of local languages (we were support staff, keeping the town running).
We looked after a neighbour’s cat while her owners were visiting their home in America. The cat had kittens – five tiny warm bundles, blind and adorable. It was one of the happiest times in my life.
Today, CJ and I visited a friend’s farm and found a pack of kittens. CJ talked to the humans while I dissolved into one big squee.
*melts*
*cutesplosion*
W: I actually SMSed my mum to discuss whether she wanted it. I have no resistance to cuteness.
I don’t think I’ll have a cat any time soon – M hates them.
W: Huh. My birthday should be interesting then.