A Sunday found

A far better name would've been 'Tiger', but I'd already used the name for a kitten 30 years' ago, and a pebble isn't what this little kitten resembles apart from the grey and amber flecks. Pebble is the one on the right of this photo!

She has well and truly bonded with me now after just one week from being in the cold outdoors with her feral mother and siblings. She has stopped gorging her food and her litter tray breathes a sigh of relief too. Now that she trusts me, I am able to have a look at her private bits, however, I'm not totally convinced Pebble is a 'She'; maybe Pebble is a 'not very well-endowed' male; it's hard to tell, or I'm just so out of practice!

She has been wormed and de-flea-ed, so too has Banjo who is looking indignant at having to go through the same procedure when if fact she was absolutely fine! Banjo and Pebble are just not bonding. Hissy fits and growls fill the air when they come nose to nose either side of the chicken-wired, make-shift temporary door between them.

Today has passed so quickly, but then, I've spent most of it lying on the floor, playing with various toy mice, marbles and bits of string; laughing and cooing and absorbing the unconditional love and affection that this little mite is giving me. I have had so many 'lost' Sundays this past two years, it's so good to enjoy what is usually for me, the worst and most lonely day of the week.