As I went on my catethetics run tonight I had more variety of course set up by all the boxboard and papers. I do love small papers. They a a joy to bat!

Glad you liked my humble poetry.

I feel rested enough to think that I slept through few days. I’ve been basking in the sun. I can’t seem to get enough of it. I’m solholic, bucolic. This is the good times we have dreampt of all winter. The window sill is warm to my toe pads. The sun streams in early and long. Good times. Good times.

I could take the entire night sky into my eyes
without blinking I could rise lithe as wind
leap the ladder of chairs and windows
stare down the bb-eyed raven
who would get my back
up —
her swift
talon’s talents
at a loss, only combing my hair
tufts of loose winter
of touchless day
coming away
freeing
bird
and
I.

How Cats became demi-gods, a folk tale from the time when our hairless talls and cats had a more similar dialect. The cat story was mythologized into human legend, distorted in the process as the act of any telling distorts intent and content. But still, an interesting tale. Perhaps one day I shall relate my account of Cattess Mror.

I have been pondering ways to escalate this new hobby of mine – to explore just how many varieties of food the stores carry by refusing to eat unless a food has been eaten fewer than 3 times. My colleage’s voice lessons are coming to good effect. I’ve become lead singer around here. Only once a day though. I wouldn’t want to strain my newly-uncovered gift of Cattess Mror

Well all that afternoon caterwauling seems to have gone to good effect. 3 hours of grunting, panting and yipping and they seem to have finally lulled and been in a blissed out purr all the day since. Good. Makes it easier for me to sleep with all that sexual tension released. I was going to stay around for the whole show but all the bed bouncing gets on a cat’s nerves.

Which reminds me, nice play nice; it gives nice outcomes. Otherwise my claws will come out.

(P.S. Kindly note my name is Valderbar not shorthair. We aren’t on such friendly terms as to get slang pet names.)

I can tell something by the movements through the room, their rate of walk, their furtive stashing away of food altars into the noise machine. Once they turn on the noisy machines for laundry licking and plate licking (I could do that you know, they never let me help), they leave for the morning. It’s extra earlier than their habits but the signs are undeniable. Wonder why they leave

I think I’ll stay inside.
I’m with the hairless tall one.
I think — yowl
cat hunting?

Oh, something is registering. I feel groggy from being disturbed mid-nap but it seems there’s a movement to go out. Not me, the hairless tom but he can’t go out like that. First I must adjust his cuffs to be furlined. Fortunately I have extra at my disposal. A few quick touch ups and now he’s better than ready. Scoot, scoot now.

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Oh my what a luxurious day!

And you can see my newly clean upper palate, free of that bothersome loose fang.