They seem to have abandonned the plate with cream sauce. It smells so good. They are both away from it but it is midway between them. I can do this.

Quiet, quiet, lick silently.

Mror! this is good. Oh I can smack up a fair bit.

uh-uh, detection!

run, run.

oh, but it was good.

My waterbowl was perilously close to dry last night but as I circled it, they didn’t get the hint. When I called out “empty” in the night a uncoordinated arm tossed a pillow in my direction. I tried to lure them out to look as soon as I heard them stirring but they waved me away as it was an extended simian grooming session (again?!)

How could I get the idea of water across?

I know I’ll stand in the bathtub. There might even be a pool of water left over.

Ok, there isn’t. They do come here next after their licking sessions though. it’s invariable.

I just have to wait. So thirsty.

They do look in here before they turn on the water don’t they?

Cat Writers Association is mentioned at The Presurfer by the ever handsome, (for a hairless tall) Gerard. I must say, I like their poem about taking in an orphaned cat

I am so cocky this days. I chased my colleague back under the sofa with a tangled mutual volley of snarls right in front of my simian charges. They didn’t say a thing. I suppose they get vexed with her as well.

As Bast* knows, it is all in good spirits.

No battle fought that sheds blood that won’t clot.
No war can be won to cause selfish mischief to be shunned.
So we may as well enjoy the fierce acrobatics of the tumble.

*Bast, a goddess of play, felines and females who shows you how to be as playful, as well as the goddess of vengeance.

They look funny with the front limbs just hanging loose not doing much to propel them forward. Wonder if it’s at all like how much they make use of their brains?

Face under paw piled on paw,
a cat just likes to make it dark
for herself, make the same repose
as she knows with her chin resting
on the knee/pillow of her human.
It was pleasant and all to be sprawled
seeing how much area of the rug I can cover
with my limbs and tail, but life is diverse
and I feel no worse for being curled
to sleep, my legs twitching with each
stride, pounce, leap. In sleep I am
a star, a ball of spirit-fire but my light
spreads wide.

I’d get you a pic but no one’s around and I’m busy relaxing.

I just discvered this and Merlin who posted it: The Cat’s Bill of Rights. ISn’t that a good idea. Now how do we set ubout having it enforced? The hairless talls seem to be good at making such resolutions but abiding by them is another matter entirely.

In other link news, exploring around Beau’s place I discovered a huge number of other cats which are now in my sidebar.

You do understand how special you are, don’t you? even though my food altar is full, my water nearly overflowing and my toilet cleaned out by your tom…even though the sun is strong and sinking its anaethetic claws into my haunches and making my fur burnished like the sun itself, because you are awake I leave all this and greet you in the shadows of your bedroom. Nice to see you awake. Thank you for the strokes.

I hear my colleague scratching in the litter box. I narrow in on her coordinates. Around the corner I scrunch down wiggling pressing myself down to pre-spring crouch, eyes fixed on the point where she will step out of the box then closet then, whammo, with a flying leap I pounce her and bounce her onto her side. I stand with my front legs on her heaving ribcage for an instant before she’s up and running. I’m in hot pursuit, and outpace her, pounce her soundly again adn we are a ball of rawrling and she’s unpinned herself and in a flat out run but hun, you know I’m faster…

I was sitting, curled up into purring animate when from across the room the she-simian came with a glass. Something for me? How thoughtful. I hadn’t even requested. I appreciate this proactive approach, anticipating my needs. She placed it into the hand of the hairless tom who lowered it for my inspection.

Citrus-spice?!! are you both mad? Talk about overpowering the nasal passages!