Chestnut

Just when things in the little miracle street house 

were getting calm and semi predictable 

the resident whale decided she could not pass a certain crying scruffy kitten spotted in the doorway of an old house. So with wind howling, rain threatening, three smalls encircling her ( their bickering and complaints temporarily silenced in mutual looks of pleading) the whale mama decided to heave all the bags onto one arm and gently scoop up the tiny dirty fluff ball and waddle through the maze of alleys towards home.

Resident cat of the house, 

wily trouble maker that he is was not so amused or charmed. Whale mama's husband being abroad in the land of the reindeer, had a little surprise as he returned, luckily with his first gesture of scooping fluff ball into his arms,  the whale mama and smalls were relieved. She can stay. Sigh, our family continues to grow. Washed and taken to the vet, she is soft and nice smelling now and is already feeling at home, chasing after shoelaces and purring on shoulders as we make our morning coffee. 

* It has come to our attention that little fluff adores roasted chestnuts - so that is what we have decided to call her.