Oh Mickey.

I named him after my first toy, Mickey Mouse that I loved dearly. It seems like ages since I got him, I was able to fit him in the palm of my hand.

My boy sleeps a lot, a fluffy ball of soft fur curled up somewhere in the house. When the sun sits down, he bursts with energy and starts running and jumping all over the place. He’s been there for me, every time I broke down or sat frustrated with the inevitable disappointments in life, he’d come, sit near me and purr looking at me with his wider than life enquiring eyes. He’d always sleep on my pillow above my head. If it’s raining and I’m on my coach lazing around he’d find me and curl up in whatever space he can squeeze himself in.

I am moving to the UK permanently soon. Unfortunately, it will cost a fortune to bring him along and I don’t think he particularly fancies freezing weather.

I think the next person to take care of my little buddy has already been chosen by life, and they’ll know it as soon as they see his pictures.

Trust me, he's the sweetest cat ever and so worth it.

Betty