image source (via Lauredhel)
Lauredhel sent me the link to this pic yesterday, and while it made me chuckle it also made me sniffle a little. My dearly beloved two passed pusscats, Bella and Poco, were respectively a tabby and a black & white just like these two. They were the dearest companion animals, and I miss them both dreadfully. If there is an afterlife for cats, I sincerely hope they’re having plenty of moments like this.
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{ 10 comments }
Can’t see bits from the machine attached to that udder like the other cows, nor a bucket… and evil me thinks an explanation might be an infected quadrant is being stripped as “unfit for human consumption, so give it to a cat!”
There are other explanations of course, but I can’t help myself.
Bit hard to tell whether the bucket’s there or not – it could be between his knees, although from the looks of further down the queue there is a milking machine installed in the barn. Perhaps she was “ready to blow” so he was just relieving a bit of the pent-up pressure?
Wow, that’s what my grandfather used to do to me when I was a wee tucker and he had a dairy farm! I can still taste the warm milk…
KITTEH!!!
(I am four.) KITTEH!
Annas last blog post..Every Action has Consequence
Love this.
I’ve only just realised, by a recount of visible limbs and shadows, that there’s a third cat lurking behind the other two.
I love this picture – it must be on constant circulation via email, because my father sent to to me a while back. Your title made me laugh too, because when I posted the pic from memory there were quite as many people going ‘ewww’ as going ‘awww’.
When I lost my first cat, as an adult, I dreamt of cat heaven. It’s like a gentlemen’s club with lots of posh couches and chairs and they spend all day lying around snoozing in the sun and sharpening their claws on expensive furniture and generally enjoying themselves. My cat indicated she was very happy there. It was really sad when I had to leave.
Mindy, I like the sound of that cat heaven as well. Perhaps its all part of a general posh afterlife for cats, and sauntering down to the barn at milking time is just another one of the gentry’s perks.
Laura, what sort of sheltered suburbanite goes “eww” over absolutely fresh creamy milk? Blimey.
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