Introducing Post Cat AKA Frida

If you’ve been here a while, you’ll remember our cherished darling pussycat of many years: Joey Muffkins. How we loved you, dear darling Joey x

Joey went to the great big chimkins diner in the sky the very week that we moved house from Reading to St. Leonards-on-Sea, and we buried him in the garden on the street where he was King, and we covered him in flowers, and we cried and cried and cried.

A while into our time here, the old owners of this house got in touch to say their older cat, Frida*, was not settling well in her new home. They knew we’d lost our cat and thought we might appreciate having her. We weren’t sure about taking on an older cat – losing Joey is still pretty raw and neither of us want to go through that loss again any time soon. But we were also sympathetic to the idea that from Frida’s point of view this is still very much HER HOUSE and so we agreed to have her for a trial period of one month. The wee darling fairly stole our hearts. One year later she is very definitely now Our Cat – or rather, we are now her servants.

I’ve been busy this week packing up orders in my office, following my announcement last week that I’m nearly out of Sourcebooks. Thank you so much for your orders! I’m getting them out as fast as I can; you should get a shipping notification once it’s in the system.

I’d say I’m packing everything up by myself which is sort of true, but also not quite… because Frida has appointed herself as OFFICE SUPERVISOR.

I found a wonderful cardboard box, thinking “this is ideal for all the packages containing all three KNITSONIK titles; I shall group the ones going to the US in it”. Foolish me! Because no, this is not a box for packages, this is a box FOR FRIDA. Each morning she steals under my desk, settles into the box and fills the air with a stream of little old lady snores and a slightly judgy vibe.

I will never get over how funny it is when a cat claims a box as its own little domain.

It’s pretty dark under the table and though I’ve been meddling with my camera, I’ve not been able to get the settings right so that Frida is not blurry. I need a tripod and will set one up at some point but that point is not today! In the meantime, here are blurry but characterful pictures of Frida AKA OFFICE SUPERVISOR AKA JUDGY CAT.

Frida has a very demanding kind of personality, and is rather spry for her thirteen** years. She gets giddy from time to time and sprints about and up and down the stairs. She does ponderous 3am operas in the hallway, wandering from room to room singing the songs of her people. She has the most amazing giant whiskers – like a walrus – and requires a very exact type of petting. You must do smooth little strokes precisely on the back of her head and the top of her shoulders. NEVER TOUCH THE EARS FOR THEY ARE SACRED!!! If the fussing ends prematurely, an outstretched mitt with menacing claws will pat you curtly as a reminder to continue. She will never sit ON you, but loves to sit BY you. She also likes to climb up behind us on the sofa and sniff/lean on our heads. She has dense, soft fur that, together with her massive claws, are her pride and joy. She loves to clean herself and will only vomit up a hairball on mummy’s favourite rug: no other place will do. She looks like a little seal when she cleans her tummy furs and holds her long back legs out together and pointed outwards, like a ballet dancer, which is hard to describe but very funny to witness. Sometimes she forgets to put her tongue away after a cleaning session and we laugh until we cry.

She has a short little tail and no idea what she’s doing with it: it’s constantly on the go, whatever her mood.

Suffice to say, the box is hers and I’ve had to come up with an alternative arrangement for grouping together my US packages!

I do love the history of postal cats – there are some great stories here and I especially love the legend of Tibs the Official Post Office Headquarters Cat.

It’s nice to have our own. Know that, if you’ve ordered a KNITSONIK Stranded Colourwork Sourcebook, Playbook or Colouring Companion, it’s been packed in the presence of greatness!

Yours in packing up orders and feline companionship,
Fx

*Frida’s name is a reference to her black and white markings; her former staff thought she looked like a Friesian cow and Frida is a riff on that.
**Frida’s age is an issue of some dispute. She was described as “we think thirteen” when we got her a year ago, which is the number that has stuck in my mind; that would make her fourteen this year — except the vet said she seems a bit older than fourteen. But the stinkface I got from the OFFICE SUPERVISOR when I considered typing 14-15 or thereabouts as her age was considerable, so I went with the more flattering option of thirteen even though it’s lies. Like everything else tucked away in her dark, unknowable heart, Frida’s real age is a secret known only to herself.