I should be asleep.
I would be asleep if it weren't for the feline version of Michael Flatley re-enacting Lord Of The Dance on my chest.
Giles has decided that it is time he was fed. He's good like that. When the tapping and clawing doesn't work he walks up to my face and starts pressing his little mouth into my face and headbutting me.
I pick him up, move him slightly down the bed and stroke him vaguely in the hope that this will placate him for a while. Instead he tries to bite my arm: in a kind and caring way.
I open my eyes and Giles is standing on my chest again. His chubby features are inches away from my face and I can smell his slightly meaty breath. At this angle he looks a bit like Chairman Mao, or should that be Chairman Miow?
I pull the duvet over my head in the hope that he will be fooled and think I have gone away: but he's too smart for that and has clearly worked out which bit of me is responsible for contolling the Cat Feeding Arms and is determined to get a response.
Sometimes he moves away for a while, but only once he is 100% sure that he has woken me up - other times I give in and traipse down stairs, watching my feet as he thunders around them like a black and white bullet.
The bowl is usually empty - so I pick it up, put some food in and one of two things will happen as I walk away.
Firstly - he will stick his face straight in and wont stop chomping until its all gone - or secondly he will race after me to see what mad things I'm doing now.
As I write this, sat in front of the TV, Giles is stretched out on his back next to me - a few moments ago he was trying to grab my arm as I typed. Now he is asleep with his head pressed against my leg.
He and Willow still have their moments - we don't seem to be able to go a day without him chasing her somewhere - but there was a reason for me bringing you this story
And that is: its almost impossible to believe that this is the same cat that, only a few months ago, cowered as far away from us as he possibly could: would barely come out from under the sofa and would certainly never have responded when we called him.
OK - so he's still very young and when he's being playful he doesn't realise that it isn't always appropriate but over the last few weeks, when there was thick snow on the ground, we were both very glad that we took him in and gave him a home
But not nearly as glad as the fact that he wanted to stay