In further tales of feline comingling: it's hard to tell from this image, but these two are actually lying together, and touching. Considering Trouble's innate sense of "individuality"-- i.e., his willingness to tell other animals to fuck the Hell off, with force if necessary-- this is a little surprising, but not entirely unexpected by me, a rare witness to the fact the old bugger actually does have a soft spot that is not his gut. Jenny, of course, is ingratiating herself to him bit by bit, whether the old fart likes it or not. Yesterday, I caught him letting her clean him-- until, of course, Trouble realized I saw this, at which point he ran off and pretended she was annoying him. (She wasn't. Obviously. But that wouldn't jibe with his cranky, macho code, this cat that still thinks he's John Wayne.) Ah, he sighs, thinking back. Come May I will have had Trouble for ten years. Hard to believe, that.
Yes, I know: I'm sure most of you are getting sick of this cat stuff. Don't worry, it'll fade from these pages-- er, screens-- soon enough.
4 comments:
Your babies are adorable! Did I tell you that we have a cat as well? I'll have to send you a pic ... Zelda
When did you get yours, kiddo?
The cat belonged to the hubby since his teens ... so she was part of the marriage deal! she's 16 years old now but she's a sweet little kitten! ... Zelda
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