The Fluffy Croquette

So for the last 14 months I’ve been trying to think of what insights and advice I could give to singers experiencing the immediate aftermath of conservatorium. Having finished my Master of Early Music in June 2016, surely I should have something to say, some advice or recommendation to give, some wisdom to impart?

Nope. No I don’t. Not yet at least.

So instead I’m going to write about my cat.

While on the unsuccessful foray across the southern border, an extremely ill-informed decision was made to adopt a cat. Despite A being so much of a dog person that he likes them better than most people, we believed that with his full time work schedule and my unpredictable travelling, taking on a cat would be a better fit for the household, due to their presumed greater independence.

Only problem is, we didn’t get a cat. We got a psycho kitten, who turned out to require 7 galaxies more work than your average dog. Her name was Croqueta, she terrorised us on a daily basis, and I adored her.

 

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