Crush: a temporary infatuation

Nelson is fickle in his infatuations. He hates most people with a vengeance, avoiding all contact with anyone he doesn't know well and running off at the sight of strangers. Children freak him out completely, he can't stand the unpredictable nature of their movements and if they tried to stroke him he would surely die. He does like some men though, WH's weirdo friend, JohnnyB a longtime close friend of us both and the depressed painter to name but three. WH he can take or leave and only makes a fuss of him if he is very hungry and knows he will get short shrift from me, usually because we have tried 4 different meals that day and he has refused them all, much to Misty's delight as he gets to eat the cast -offs. Only for me does he reserve his deep rumbling purr as I give him his bed-time cuddle, tickle his fluffy little tummy and scratch his ears, and of course all this is in the privacy of my bedroom, public affection he can't take at all.

Latterly he was in love with a bag. Now he's fallen out of love with that and transferred his affections to something else, a really naf, shell-suit-type body-warmer which WH's mother insists on buying him annually to keep him warm in the winter. This one had been worn for plastering and was abandoned on the floor in front of the heater. No particular reason, but you know what men are, never, ever, put anything away for at least 3 days unless under extreme sufferance, so I just leave stuff and if it still remains after 48 hours or so, it then gets washed and put in it's rightful place, prior to this time it's quite likely to be retrieved for a further wearing in which case I'm accused of hiding "all his stuff". This time though Nelson had collared it so to speak and made a nest in the centre, his face peeping out of the armhole whilst he luxuriated in it's nylon warmth and softly padded surface.

Of course for the house viewings and other estate agent related visits the body-warmer is removed and hidden in a cupboard as are all the cat related accoutrements of this house. Never let a prospective vendor know that you have an animal in residence let alone three, the property must be bright, shiny, clutter and most importantly, animal free. The last viewing was cancelled, just at the point the house had been restored to show-home squeaky-cleanness. I swore silently at the estate agent on the other end of the phone and out loud to my vision of the unknown prospective purchaser who had caused me 3 hours housework for no good reason at all. Life returned to normal except for one unhappy, permanently shrieking cat. It's taken me 4 days to realise that his latest love was still in the cupboard. Now he's pawing his love object with wild abandon and telling it he loves it. Until the next time he finds something else he loves more.