Oh dear, poor little skinny dripping kitten ... they do tend to blame you for these mistakes as well.
One of my Siamese, Majdhar, aka The Gibbon (as every mealtime was a case of a little Gibbon take) was strolling past the fishpond one day, when she suddenly spooked, levitated, and somehow jumped sideways into the pond. The day was warm, I raced to provide towel and sympathy, but she was furious!
The name Majdhar, by the way, means ... midstream
I was trying to raise a colony of golden orfe too; the intrusion of the Gibbon seemed to have scared them orfe, or they died orfe, or cleared orfe, or perhaps our local heron picked them orfe ... or were they just orfe-season?
And when I was in my teens I had a longhaired tortie, Saada, who liked to get into the last warm couple of inches of a bath and wade around, purring.... perhaps I should have called her Ophelia. Or Becky?
