As Miss Meow (a.k.a. Lotta) is happy as ever, X and I are trying to get used to the idea of her leaving us. Or rather, we're trying to get used to the idea of returning her to the place from where we borrowed her, and not having her around us all the time while we're at home.

We quickly grew to love the small bodily frame of her magnificent heart, claws, ears, paws and skin, and now that I think of not seeing her every day I'm sad. Sure, we're buying a kitten, but it's not a trade-off; I can't think in that term. It'd be like slavery. Sure, keeping a cat at home, making it accustomed to staying inside our apartment is slavery of sorts, I cannot deny that. And I'll leave it at that, feeling like a hypocrite.

On Thursday we'll travel to the faraway regions of Finsta, where our baby cat Blixa is today. Here she is at 11 weeks of age. Sour puss!

Here's a little film I snapped yesterday of X mimicking Lotta as she scratches the cupboard where the food is. Well, truth be told, Lotta doesn't always scratch the right cupboard, but she does scratch a cupboard... Parents defending their children, right? Right. X and Lotta together are so lovely, and I'm guessing I'll be aaaaw-ing my brains out in the following weeks months years to come.