With the warmer weather, the cats can often be found curled up and quiet on the bed.

But not always.

Sometimes there is too much excitement going on.

If I were to cast the Studio Kittins into a story, they would each be members of a royal family in a fantastical world. I imagine Shibumi, the fierce warrior-queen, confident, courageous and a bit of a bruiser with a constant expectation of victory (#shibumiwins)

Scout would be the poet-prince, sensitive and high-strung but also the flirt, the peacemaker, the bonvivant…

And Escher would be the prince who stands apart, the expectation of imminent betrayal has him wary with all but a very few. His good looks but cold demeanour capable of breaking more than a few hearts.

Escher has been feeling so much more at ease. A few times I’ve seen him lying outstretched, tummy open, in front of the open window. And yesterday, as he was sitting on this sweater, I went to pet him and just for a moment he did the traditional cat curl, flopping over to his side, leaning his head back and exposing his belly just a touch.

Progress.

Yesterday, I was working in the studio when I heard a bit of a bump and shuffle downstairs. As any cat mom would, I flew out of my chair to have a look. As I went down the stairs, I heard a scrambling and thought, “Who is in the sink?” Then I saw Shibumi, holding herself up by the paws on the frame of the kitchen window, the window above the coffee maker. Her feet were trying to find purchase. Clearly she had tried to jump up into the little window edge and hadn’t quite made it. I could see where she had tried to touch down on the table but had hit the top of the sugar container instead, flipping it over and giving her nothing stable sto stand on.

I reached out.

With her level of tension and her past, I knew I might be in for it. She would likely use my arm as a safetly ledge and spring/tear away with vigour and speed.

But that’s not what happened.

Instead she came to me easily and leaned in, her poor little heart beating a million miles a minute. She stayed in my arms, letting me pet her until she calmed and even began purring. Then she was ready to be off on her next adventure.

This moment of table transgression is not the special moment that I had with Escher today but I loved the light and his attentive posture as he looked out into the great beyond. In the next moment, he saw me and climbed down sheepishly. (That’s a win too – he now has an awareness of what’s okay and not okay)

Earlier in the day, he was up in the studio, staring out the window, watching the birds. Months and months ago I had been able to sit near him on the chair, petting him and being close. It was lovely.

One day, I took the step of trying to pick him up and it was too much. He ran away and didn’t forgive me. Each time that I would go near the chair, he would bolt out of the room – until today.

Today he did that little awkward prance that he’s come to do when he’s looking forward to being pet. I sat on the chair. He stood on its arm, kneading and purring as I pet him.

Progress.