Meet The Newest Addition To Our Family


Normally when I come over all YOLO it’s because I’m eyeing up a holiday to Mykonos or a seriously sassy long-sleeved dress on ASOS, but this weekend, well this weekend I did something a little bit different.

This weekend, aside from winning a blogging award, I bought a kitten.

This is not a drill, HANNAH GALE HAS A NEW CAT.

World, meet little Miss Granger Attwood Coleman-Gale.

Of course, you’ll already know about her if a) you follow me on Instagram or b) you watched last night’s YouTube video hoping for a pregnancy announcement (you’re all so predictable).

Anyway, Chris and I had been toying about getting a second cat for a little while, and then when Rudey had her accident it became clear that we needed something to help entertain her. We have glass back doors and so Rudey has always used the first floor bathroom window as her own personal cat flap, flinging herself up and down the garden trees to get there.

But well, with three legs, it didn’t seem likely that our little baby princess would be able to resume her normal outdoor life with the set-up we had in place, and so for the time being, she’s become a house cat.

She doesn’t cry to go out, but she looks bored and my heart breaks a little bit for her every single day.

Maybe I’m hormonal or maybe I’m tired but my eyes are welling up for her as I type this because her life has had to change so dramatically. And, well, without sounding massively CRAZY CAT LADY, she’s one of my best friends. She’s the best.

Before she was hit by a car and had a back leg amputated, she used to disappear for most of the day – having adventures in the surrounding roads, causing havoc and no doubt befriending cute old ladies that lured her pretty face in with fresh prawns.

And maybe we’re being overprotective to keep her in. But I’m scared for her, and it would require us forking out hundreds of pounds for a new glass back door with a cat flap fitted, or us only letting her out for chaperoned plays in the back garden which, to be honest, feels a bit like a tease.

Like only being allowed into a nightclub if your parents come too. Like nah babes I’ll stay at home wrapped in a blanket and eating ALL the food and watching channel 5 documentaries, ta.

So here we are, with a new baby. A little sister for our Rudey Cohen.


Admittedly, they’re not best friends just yet but it’s only been about 36 hours so I’m hoping that Rudey learns to love her as much as we do. She’s the fluffiest little cherub who loves nothing more than squeaking at me to let her sit on my lap whilst I work at my desk. She’s a lot less independent and more into being carried around like an actual newborn than Rudey ever was at nine weeks old. She also farts a LOT. The little moose.

And I love that they have different personalities. I’m praying to the cat friendship gods that Rudey quite likes how soft and sleepy and delicate she is and comes to help look after her. All she wants in the world is snuggles and naps and with her three lickle legs, Rudey’s the prime candidate for feline downtime.

So, err, how did we end up with a new kitten out of like, nowhere?

Well, when I got home from Leeds on Sunday afternoon, Chris popped out to the local shop and I, slightly hungover and seriously flippin’ knackered from trains, decided to surf the interweb for baby cats. I found Granger, rang up her mumma’s owner, agreed to drive the 15 miles to go and see her and well, she was in my arms soaring down the A14 back to Ipswich within the hour.

It was meant to be. Even if she has already done one wee on me and is err, not so well accustomed with cleaning herself after a poo. Like maybe don’t come near me for a while, I smell pretty flippin’ hideous.

And now the thing you’re really interested in – her weird ol’ name.

I threw out a tonne of cute girly ones, but it’s Granger that’s stuck. Granger, as in Hermoine Granger.

And she clearly likes it because I found her sleeping on top of my Harry Potter books on my bookshelf this morning TWICE. Girl got good taste.

As for Attwood, well, that’s to bind her to Rudey forevermore. Ryan Attwood and Seth Cohen, and if you don’t get that reference then you are not old enough to read my blog and I’M TELLING YOUR MUM.

I might slip in an extra middle name at some point, but for now my brain is throwing a blank and can only see endless cups of teas and wait do I have time for a nap and when can I do the ironing and is Rudey sad and have I done a video today and what’s for dinner?

And on that note, I’m off to assess the fridge. See ya.



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