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Morvern

Morvern was my little black cat from 2019 to 2022. She was tiny and had bright green eyes. No one knows how old she was. I was told she was three when I adopted her; towards the end of her life, the vets thought she might in fact be in her early teens.

I write about Morvern and what she meant to me, in different ways, in this article on D. H. Lawrence, and in A Flat Place.

 
Morvern liked to sit on my chest and stare at me.
Morvern felt it important to be involved in everything that went on.
Really there was a lot of staring.
Morvern loved tunnelling and pouncing in brown paper, ripping it to shreds.
She slept in various places. Here she is on a pillow on top of a bookcase.
Morvern loved our Djungelskog and spent a great deal of time giving him leg massages.
Morvern butted me with her head, bit me gently and chirruped when she wanted to say hi
She was the most sensitive, attuned, beautiful creature
I write about Morvern in my work on D. H. Lawrence.
Morvern was generally quite alarmed by life
paws
Morvern liked to play with ribbons
Here she has played so hard with her ribbons that she has fallen asleep on them
Morvern did not come on any of my flat place research but she would have liked the idea