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Nigel is so pretty. And she seems to know it.



Fella has been singing along with the choons this evening and dancing too, with the One-eyed Cat observing. They seem to have arrived at an understanding. Fella assumes an audience, half-deaf half-blind Cat assumes human is intending to entertain and amuse. All was fine until Xerox Machine. Cat suddenly descends into chagrin, with fluffed up backbone and tail-in-the-air disdainful retreat. Perhaps he didn’t think much of the performance rather than disliking the track.

Starcrawler went down well though.



I had a cat who adored David Bowie. She would come running and sit leaning against the speaker.
 
Madam funny face sleeps like a cartoon fox
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Idiot cat sleeps like he's been dropped from the upstairs bedroom
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I can’t stop peeking at your foxy sleeping cat Manter .

They really are constituionally different aren’t they.

My old darling came to fetch me up for bed, very patient and kind. No nagging, just gentle invitations and nudges. When I did start up the stairs he was two steps ahead of me and checking over his shoulder at every other step. Made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
 
This morning I had a bold pair of Robins in the back yard, sifting through the leaf litter for their breakfast. Cat sat in the glass doorway watching them, but no chattering or other hunting behaviour. Just a kind of pensive curiosity. Mind you, he’d just had Christmas Dinner leftovers for his own breakfast.

I do admire that air of Wise Elder cats seem to develop as they get into their venerable old age. And I like the way the youngsters seem to respect their elders, even though they’re not as strong as they once were. This happens when cats share homes for a long time, less so when youngsters join the home of an older cat (I’m thinking of Toby Toes now, and how unlikely it is that he’d defer to any other Cat...!)

I had an old crotchety bitch cat from hell, tiny and scrawny she was, I loved her so very much. Even in her frail little old lady days all the other lively younger cats would defer to her. And when the Auld Warrior finally retired from King Tom duties and shed his mane, he was still clearly venerated by the household cats. Even the youngest who’d turned up on the doorstep as an alley cat reform school stray developed a huge deferential crush on him and would guard his shoulder when they were in the garden.

Blimey, that sounds like we had dozens of them, doesn’t it. We never had fewer than two, and never more than five. Except when there we’re kittens of course.
 
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