Beware, The Noble House of Kitty.

In the morning's, Cleo is like a miniature version of Mrs Black, from 12 Grimmauld Place. If I so much as breathe slightly louder than normal, let alone move a leg under the blankets, she hears me from her cozy nest in the laundry and SCREAMS what I know to be profanities at me.

If she could coherently form words, I'd awake to a chorus of "Stain of dishonour! By product of dirt and vileness! Shame of my flesh - how dare you befoul the house of my own!" blasted in my direction.