WHAT'S WITH THE NAME?
Our last kitty was called Bertie Wooster, which was a name I absolutely LOVED. It was really hard to think of a name that could live up to that, especially because Cherub kept nagging me: he needed the name NOW. So I was harassed-ly flicking through my mental library of well-known literary or real or film/tv characters and Basil Fawlty cropped up. Basil seemed like a good name. When he's naughty I can do my Sybil Fawlty impersonation. Basil! We most definitely do not say Bay-sil in Australia.
WHERE DID YOU GET HIM?
We got the new kitty from a breeder in Macclesfield, which is a long drive from our house, all the way to the Dandenongs. His breeder was recommended to us by Bertie's breeder, and I'd been watching the ad for him for a couple of weeks while I agonised over whether we could afford him, in light of the great motorcycle disaster. Of course, we can't, not really. But he was still there after a couple of weeks, so I figured it was meant to be. He is, after all, a lilac burmese.
The family who sold him to us had 3 very nice boy-children and such was their rapport with my kids that the Climber and their eldest boy exchanged email addresses and have been sending each other little messages all day. It also turned out that the family ran an online toy shop so I was able to buy the kids a Sonic Screwdriver at the same time, because I have started letting the kids watch Doctor Who this year. It scared them so much the first time that Cherub was glued to my lap and Climber was awake from 12.30am to 2am that first time, but they've got the hang of it now.
Doctor Climber attacks a Dalek-Cherub with the Sonic Screwdriver
WHAT SORT OF CAT IS HE?
Basil is a Burmese cat, they make extra good pets because they are so friendly and clever and affectionate and playful. Even better, he is a lilac Burmese, which considering the whole purple fixation I have going on, made him fairly irresistible to me. He even has a purple nose.
HOW'S HE SETTLING IN?
Really well, considering he's just been ripped from his home, his mother and his many kitten friends and siblings. He seems to have a really sweet nature, not so much of the bad-ass attitude of the last puss. He's successfully acquainted himself with the litter-tray (after having an accident on the sheepskin rug I'd given him to make him feel comfortable). He's eating, he's cuddling, he's slept on Cherub's bed, he's played. He's just lovely actually. He's not 100% at home yet, but he's doing really well.
WHAT'S HE LIKE?
Teeny. Soft. He has a croaky meow like a creaky door. Extremely pretty. Smoochy. Still a bit nervous, but getting braver.
ARE THE KIDS HAPPY?
Oh yeah, baby.
For ANZAC Day this is so beautiful and tender
12 hours ago