Nan and bedtime

When Nan's sons were small she had a night time job as a nursing auxiliary in a local hospital.  She would put the boys to bed and then cycle off to work, coming home in  the early hours to catch a few hours sleep, get them up for school and then cycle off to her day job.

The three mischievous (Nan's description of them was slightly more salty) boys rarely stayed in bed and often  planned practical jokes to play on their weary mother.  One night they put a cat in her bed - at about the level you might put a hot water bottle.  The cat, strangely, did not complain, but settled under the weight of blankets for a contented sleep.

Nan arrived home, exhausted and staggered into bed, within seconds she began to scream loudly as her feet met the furry bundle that objecting to being woken attached  claws to her calves. Nan was not amused and often referred to this episode as if on level with matricide.  When asked which cat it was (well - this detail was important to me) she would say: 'How should I know - all cats are the same in the dark.'
When I was older I looked up this saying - big mistake- and chanced upon Benjamin Franklin's advice to a young friend - I was quite glad that this Nanism/Franklinism hadn't become part of my vocabulary.

Nan and Pinky

Nan acquired a cat called Little Mum who had taken up residence under the Helichrysum bush in the front garden.  The cat cried so pitifully that she had to be adopted (this was the tale Nan told Uncle - his version was that Nan had appropriated the cat from what she saw as an undeserving family).
Little Mum, small, cream-coloured with a ginger face and beauty spot soon produced a single kitten.  At this point I'm beginning to wonder what she was called before she produced the said kitten - have a feeling it was soemthing like Marie Antoninette - naming cats not being a strong point in our family.  I was allowed to name the new arrival and decided that 'Pinky' would suit - yes, the naming weakness is obviously genetic.
Unfortunately the small bundle of fur with his tiny pink nose grew into a monster cat and got even bigger when he was neutered.  Pinky was not an attractive cat; large,white and flabby with strangely small ears; but despite this he and Nan became a mutual admiration society.  Every day he would wait at the bus stop for her to return from work - he would first jump into her arms and then settle himself around her neck and lick her ears with his raspy tongue.  Nan would stagger home, being a diminutive woman (4 foot 10 with size 3 feet and small 'aristocractic hands' - her words not mine) with her loving bundle.  Sadly Pinky wasn't awfully bright, didn't understand the concept of the weekend and could often be found at the bus stop when Nan was indoors watching TV.