Day One

Came back as early as i could last evening, put in more cat food, milk and water about, contemplated on the stars and the mosque on the terrace with frend, the pain of death in the reading room, hard-boiled 4 cat eggs and didnt yet ravage the bookpile. however did go to bed at midnight and had to admit one caterwauling cat to make it stop caterwauling. obviously it was going to share the bed with me tho i thought it was pretty clear it was going to stick to the other side. after fooling noone with its absolutely absorption in ritual licking, i decided to mind my own business, pull up the blanket and settle with a collected t s eliot- pretty cliched this is but i turned to the Book of Practical Cats. i think the pulling up of the blanket seemed to work as some vestigial indication, because with a pop it began stalking to my side of the bed and stuck its head under my derriere for crying out. to the credit of my openmindedness and the eternal shame of the family name (if it turns out there were cameras rolling), i didnt react with instant outrage but considered what he was trying to get at. Turns out I was too tired and really didnt want to be flea ridden that night - so gave it a soft knock to the other side of the bed.
It licked itself a lot.
I said shut-up twice during the night.
I petted and strokd all cats in the morning.
i think this whole cat trip is making me a more affectionate person.