A measure of life in cats

Comfrey was the first, just days old when his mother was killed by a tractor, raised on a bottle, he grew to be big. He liked to go for walks.
When Comfrey died, Arthur and Martha, brought home in a cardboard box, small ginger bundles. Arthur went to live with my neighbour but would always come back to visit.
Max next. When he was young Hannah carried him everywhere in a basket. Now he spends his days in the wood pile and always greets when we get home.
Bird found us. Small black cat, he always loved Bella.
Then Pixie and Maurice. And I can say nothing about Maurice without raising tears. I loved him so.
And Kiffer, who had already used some of his nine lives before he came to live with us and then borrowed some from Maurice.
And Elmo.

Soon...........

....it will be finished. She has only some writing to do and a small piece of colouring in and a deciding on what the puma should be called. She thinks it should be a cougar.

Progress; or "Needs Whiskers".

Only those who know Her well will understand how hard it is for Her to paint this cover. It is turning into a small hymn of praise for Maurice.

At last!

Well, it has taken Her years but it looks like She is finally beginning to get the idea of how to paint cats. We have been so patient with Her. We thought there would be trouble when She said She was working on a cat book. We have been helping, sitting still in warm places, watching, walking in paint. These two are for front and back endpapers, and have cat paw prints to go with them thanks to Pixie.