Prince Charmin is nine (9) years old today.
It really is hard to explain just how well he has fitted in, and how good he has been for my parents.
He is not spoilt, but certainly indulged and as with all cats he has his routine: 4am he leaves his bed by the radiator in my parents room and wanders over to their bed to wake father up for a ‘play’. After this he jumps up on their bed to keep them company until around 8am when he wakes them so he can be let out into the garden.
Next on his agenda is another trip to the bedroom for a cup of tea in bed with mother and then they come down so she can give him his breakfast.
As a rule he likes to spend the mornings downstairs in the Conservatory, then a bit of a play, before an afternoon upstairs, generally in my old bedroom (now his I am told) or in my parents bedroom.
He spends the evening with them, including a good half hour each day playing with a ball – a game which includes my father.
I have said before that one of the (many) great things about having moved back from Spain is that we see him every week. He really is a very very special cat.
