Return of the Prodigal Kitten Face

Oliver came home last night. We were both very happy to see each other. I assume that Jeremy was happy too but really the important bond is that between girl and cat. Boy and cat have a secondary and therefore less important bond. This theory is supported by the fact that Jeremy never said at any moment on our vacation 'I really miss Oliver.' Or even 'I can't wait to see Oliver again.' He barely even responded when I made similar comments during those sad and barren Oliver-free days.

Oliver, if you're reading this, take note. Jeremy does not love you as much as I do.

We got to Catford where Oliver was staying with our old neighbor and her mean cat Pebbles (Oliver has scratches on his beautiful cheeks, damn you Pebbles!) and the minute we walked in the door we heard the sad tones of our boy meowing out as if to say, O! Carolyn! Rescue me! And he ran straight to me and reveled in the belly rubs he received.

I think they were starving him and denying him all affections because he was clearly smaller than he was when we left and he was needier than ever before as well. When I gave him his wet food he inhaled it as if he had not eaten in two whole weeks. Poor, poor Oliver.

He slept cuddled between us last night, waking intermittently to head butt me in the face and demand further attentions. Thank goodness he has returned to the warm bosom of my affection where belly rubs are freely handed out and received.