Did you hear? The Cafe Cat has gone from country cat to city kitty. I bade farewell to my beloved Kent, wished the lambs of the long lane well and sighed as I turned my back to the farm where Pumpkin the cat regarded me silently from beneath the old oak frame of the cider press.
I'll miss the gentle purr of that little one as I stir my homemade soups, as much as I'll miss the beautiful orchards, forests and friends that I've left behind. Buddy considered coming but I gently reminded him that the city of London was no place for a sleek country king such as himself and he sadly slipped off his scarf and rubbed his face up against mine, leaving a snotty black smear that spoke volumes of his love (and levels of hygiene ).
And so here I am, in the the city of smoke, culture and bodies with a makeshift bedroom in the living room of my brother's house. I completed my first day at my new job and teetered between being overwhelmed and extremely excited for the future and all that it might hold.
From a village with merely a letterbox, a handful of cottages and the sweet scent of apple blossom to the busy bustling capital with everything at my fingertips, it has been a rather dramatic change and one which I hope will only bring wonderful things. I suppose the beauty of the countryside comes with the price of the stagnation I felt and a restriction of growth, whereas here the potential is phenomenal.
And so here I shall stay with the hope one day of working my way back to a pretty nook of Kent that I can call my own with a job that I deserve and allows me to thrive.
Until then, Buddy can hold the fort.
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