Big Kev

Clearly, Big Kev is not a sphynx. Clearly, he is a Moggy.

He has some Burmese in his parentage. He has that typical high hipped walk and the question mark tail, and the shouty shouty SHOUTY voice.

Oh the voice. You can have a conversation with him. He alters his tone depending on what he wants, and how urgently he wants you to get up, and how swiftly you respond to his needs.

He is named after an Armourer, a lad who worked with Rich and who read at his Celebrations. Kevin-the-kitten appeared in the November, via a child at school, and came home the day of the Inquest. Kev gave the boy and I a focus, something to take care of.

And he grew!

He is a hunter/killer/eater of small mammals, birds, hairbands and the naughty red dot that appears and disappears. He has claws that can, and have, ripped cloth.

And yet Frank doesn't have a mark on him. They roll and play fight together, and the claws that disembowelled a seagull last year are sheathed.

He is a good chap.