I measure her cat food with care from the vat, but she has such an aptitude, my little cat for flushing out lizards and others like that. With delicate paw thrusts, she gives them a bat ’til they barely know where it is that they’re at, then unleashes her claws for a more severe pat.
Be it lizard or bird or scorpion or rat, she defeats it as though it were merely a gnat and lays it out nicely on my front door mat: one scorpion sting less or a feather for my hat, then returns to the stool where she formerly sat, licking her chops, and that’s why she’s so fat!!!
I suspect you are the guilty one. The evidence is clear, and as a further indication, you’re acting rather queer. Those pork chops just left in the pan a short while ago are nowhere to be seen now, though I’ve looked both high and low. I don’t know where the bones have gone, but I have a suspicion that when you last entered the house, those chops were your ambition! I left the room for minutes and came back, much perturbed, to find the skillet empty, albeit undisturbed, still centered on the burner with not even one chop. So now I fear my dinner guests are going to have to stop to pick us up a pizza as they drive here from town, for when I left the pork chops on the stove top to get brown, SOMEONE helped himself to them. Mind, I’m not pointing fingers, but as you skulk out of the room, still, my suspicion lingers. You are a likely felon, dear little doggie mine. I think you’d have no chance in a doggie suspect line!
True story. Six pork chops!!! Skillet still centered over the flame, not one inch out of alignment. Later on, a mysterious stash of pork chop bones found by the gardener in the lower garden behind the studio.
Once a species has been depleted, it’s sad that it can’t be repeated. This is true of guys and gals as surely as for animals. So though we hate to limit fun that might be realized with your gun, unless you’re hunting for your fodder, we ask that you confine your slaughter to paper targets, or wood or clay, and do not blow game sport away like rhinos, elephants, giraffes. Their slaughters are the greatest gaffes. If you must kill a living thing, form yourselves into a ring, make prayers to the Holy Mother and target practice on each other!
Yes, this is hyperbole!! The WordPress prompt is deplete.
“I think we may be family,” was whispered in his ear, but he couldn’t see who said it, though he looked both far and near. Again that small voice spoke to him. “We share a family name, although as the biggest, you possess most of the fame.”
Thus did the massive elephant notice for the first time the tiniest of animals who’d finished its long climb from the dirt so far below up to his mighty ear. From foot to knee to shoulder, it had climbed in spite of fear
that one great flinch might cast it from the air down to the ground. Yet still it journeyed upwards, driven to expound on how great an irony, surely it must be, that this small “ant” and the eleph”ant” must be family!
You’ll want to see these movie stars of cats better. Just click on the first photo and the whole slide series will be larger. Click through series with right hand arrow.
How Many Cats?
How many cats would you say is enough? With which added cat does the going get tough? What number of cats is simply too many? Some would say “Five,” while others say, “Any.” My old cat thinks one is the ultimate number. That’s her on the red cushion having a slumber. But Kukla and Frannie and Ollie and Roo think having five cats is the right thing to do.
Annie may hate them, but they are sanguine.
Their sibling act is a well-oiled machine.
With one cat on my stomach and one on each knee, don’t expect an impartial opinion from me. It’s clear that my thinking is slightly off-kilter. I simply don’t have an intact kitty-filter. I have enough stools and pillows and mats to accommodate a few additional cats. The problem is whether one human’s enough to serve as a mattress for five balls of fluff!
(The two calicos are hard to tell apart. Look at the last two photos in the first collage. The one with the black dot by her eye is Frannie. The one without is Kukla. Bet you thought they were the same cat, huh? The first cat is Annie, the second one Ollie. They look a bit alike as well. Roo is the white cat about to fall off the chair. There will be a test over this tomorrow.)