Norsky's licking festival

After a few days' thoroughly enjoyable stay in North Zealand, the lion's share of which was spent im Schoss der Familie, we had the good fortune of getting back home to North Jutland in time for supper, even as railroad maintenance work was taking place on two different spots en route. Upon arrival to the affected locations, all passengers were politely and firmly asked to evacuate the train and move into a capacious tourist bus parked in front of the train station. The personnel helped guide us in place and stash the luggage in the belly of the bus, below deck. These transitions were performed so smoothly that the inconvenience involved was negligible. Hardly worth mentioning, in fact.
Back home, only two of the cats formed the welcoming committee. We were starting to get a bit edgy. Where are the other three and are they all in good health? Then another joined in from the garden and a forth could be discerned peering in through the fence. That was Wimbelina! Initially, she wasn't in the mood and stayed away. After another hour, she joined the crew and started socializing and rolling around on the ground to her hearts content.
Only much later did Norsky show up. It was a huge relief to see him again. He gave his usual loud growl and trotted to the food bowl to see what's new on the menu. After that he got some cuddles and gave in return a taste of his prolific tongue work. Man, does that cat like to lick! He gave us an overhaul bottom up like some dedicated pedicurist cum manicurist and we could skip the bath when he was done.
O, Norsky, Norsky, Norsky, there ain't neyone like ya on earth nor in the sky, nor in the goddamn frigging universe.