You never feed me.
Perhaps I’ll sleep on your face.
That will sure show you.
The rule for today:
Touch my tail, I shred your hand.
New rule tomorrow.
Terrible battle.
I fought for hours. Come and see!
What’s a ‘term paper?’
Wanna go outside.
Oh, poop! Help! I got outside!
Let me back inside!
Litter box not here.
You must have moved it again.
I’ll go in the sink.
Want to trim my claws?
Don’t even think about it!
My cries will wake dead.
– Irish proverb
In honour of Mum’s new kitten, here’s a passage from Doris Lessing’s On Cats that I always loved:
– Jean Cocteau
Today we said goodbye to Mousya, our gorgeous tabby princess who lived to the ripe old age of 18, which means that she’s been in my life for exactly half of it. She’s been an old cat for so long I can barely remember her as a young one. We got her very soon after we moved into our family house, and for the first few days she wouldn’t leave my brother’s bedroom, which she probably found comforting because of the carpeted floor. We called her Mousya after our first family cat who we sadly left behind in Russia. Mousya is basically a Russian version of Spot, a common-as-dirt pet name.
yggdrasille.com 