Ashbutt, “helping” . . .

. . . to write the next book.

Ashbutt’s been particularly playful and kitten-“needy” today, demanding to be picked up and cuddled after a huge thunderstorm scared him early this morning.  Oh, well . . . he’s still very much a child, despite his impressive size – coming up ten months old.



  1. Rumor has it that Maine Coon mixes never grow up. Mine still haven't, and they're a bit over four years old now. Still playful, and often clingy, but they seem to be done growing.
    At least with only one of him, he can't gang up on you.

  2. Your cat is a piker. When our cat, Mowgli (who looks exactly like Ashbutt, by the way) wants to help, he comes over, lays down on the laptop keyboard on his back, then sticks his four feet into the air waiting for someone to rub his tummy. I have finally figured out that this is the feline equivalent of protection money. "Nice novel you have there. It'd be a shame if a bunch of random characters were inserted into the middle of it. Now, rub my tummy, and there won't be any problems."


  3. We have an indoor/outdoor cat which we left in the care of a neighbor while we escaped the gloomy winter weather. Arrived home last night after a three month absence to what is known as a monumental bollocking from the cat. This went on for ages, interrupted sporadically for the consumption of cat treats, tuna and other bribes.

    Cuddles were demanded in an imperative tone and opportunities seized for some surreptitious clawing just to let us know his severe displeasure.

    I hope he's got over it now.

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