Archive for April, 2005

sight for sore neck

As I was doing my regular patrol of the perimeter, nothing struck me at first.
Patrolling

I was, honestly, bleary-eyed with sleep. Then,
a pidgeon

Then something struck me. It’s partner flew off the edge but this one remained. If it had been an eagle, I would have been sitting in its nest as lunch right now. I tell you I have such a crick in my neck. I didn’t take so much as a blink away from this for many minutes. When it finally dropped off the railing, I gave chase all the way to the glass.

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well, well

I guess I’m well. I’ve been dozier than wilting chrysanthamums. I think I may have slept through an entire day.

Postscript. I guess it’s been more than a day.
Well, about time to get up. Shadows to hunt, birds to see.

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that feels better

My colleague is feeling better within herself. Overnight she even came out and joined me in some catethentics and a tussle. She took on her duties again to alert to a certain bathroom situation that needed remedying.

And to add good to good, the simian female is home. (You never know with this roamers.) I’d been extra hungry but stretching the meal out since she was a few hours late returning. As soon as she came back I knew it was safe to gulp down the remainder and get a refill on the old tin altar. Now, a full stomach, doesn’t that just fill the heart?

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Thanks

Thank you to all my lovely commenters. I’m glad to see everyone but the cats out there grabbing a bit of their own net time is always a particular joy for my heart cockles.

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fur brained fellow

When life compounds around my dear fetish-foody friend, that cat colleague of mine that I love to hate, she turns a bit odder than normal. (And lately, there has been the notorious cat-claw-cutting lady, guests on a few occasions and an upping of the construction noise. It is all a little much for her.)

And when my colleague broods, she really does brood. She is psycho-sematically nursing her brood of furballs. She purrs at matted furballs they were kittens about to hatch from eggs. She stays in the darkest corner with them except for a furtive low run to wolf back a 3/4 bowl of chow. I attend to her, counselling her in the closet.

There’s little I can do aprt from not aggravating her. She’ll snap back to her normal loud snappish self soon enough and all the affection and sensitivity I dole she won’t remember. But the good karma I release is never lost. It will be out there someone for re-release. Cattess Mror and her Consorts will see to that.

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a deal?

Did you know and didn’t tell me? Psychokitty has a book! it’ll be great. I wonder how I can scrape together $30 local to buy it? Tutoring singing for extorting higher feeding portions? That’s unlikely to add hard cash. While I mull this development, the female and I will play a game of symbiosis. She lets me sit on her warm legs and I’ll be an excuse why she hasn’t turned on that rocking rattling clothes licker machine. We both win.

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Innovation

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Now that is good design. Wonder if pyschocat can make enough from book sales to get one of those?

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