Katie and her neighbours had seen tiny Arrullo and his mum begging round their doors for a few days, probably from the colony up the back of Bantry. No one had taken either of them in. But on Saturday 18th December, Katie managed to grab Arrullo as he skittered across the road in front of her house and brought him down to me at the Boy’s Club (RAWR had a stall at Heart’s Christmas Bazaar there). So I rushed home with wee Arrullo in a pillow case (a good transport option if nothing more sensible is handy), checked him over and settled him into the warmth before heading back to the stall. All this with my face painted like a tiger, much to the amusement of passers-by.
Skinny as a rake, Arrullo was otherwise healthy. Despite being scared of my approach and discombobulated by his transportation, he started purring and nuzzling as soon as I picked him up, much to my surprise. And he continued to purr and nuzzle (and try to shove his head up my nose!) when I returned that evening to spend some time with him. He’s delightful!
And with so much purring and snorgling I checked out the internet for names along those lines – and found Arrullo means purr in Spanish – and lullaby … and cooing! And the name seemed to fit this lil streetwise urchin rather well. Moniker sorted!