In Willow’s living room, her friend Winona and her new acquaintance Wazzer are all arcing over a basket. Wazzer, driving her ’92 Nissan, has given Winona a lift out. Upon receiving Willow’s message, there was no time to waste.

Winona leans over the basket, eyes wide with adoration. “Who’s an ickle bitty baby? Who’s the cutest baby ever? Do you love your Mummy? Can I be her auntie?”

“She looks like you, same hair color, same eyes.  Any toys for her yet?” says Wazzer.

Willow tenderly reaches into the basket. “No, I just got her from the breeder last week.” The kitten squeaks prettily as Willow picks her up.

Being a Kiwi, Willow felt in her bones that she needed two things upon moving into a house: a lemon tree and cats. The lemon tree was easy enough. A small Meyer lemon sapling is in a tub in the courtyard. The feline part, to her surprise, was much harder.  Amazed at how tough it is to adopt a kitten from the SPCA, swayed by cute pet web sites, Willow has indulged in a long-haired purebred kitten. With patches of grey and peach fur, her eyes still baby blue, Cullodeena Malmuirie of Tweedcats is as efficient a heartbreaker as she was bred to be.

Willow watches her new pet play.  “I think she looks like a Cilla, don’t you?”

“Cilla’s a good name.  Sensible.” Wazzer bats a finger at the kitten, and stays calm when her hand is pounced and nibbled. She even takes a look around. “This is a nice place, eh? Did you have a decorator?”

Willow shakes her head, happily. “Just me. I like color.”

Winona, paying no attention to any bipeds in the room, squeals helplessly. “My brain just turns to fudge when I look at her. She’s a kitten!”

Tags:   real estate · wazzer · willow · winona1 Comment