Queen of the household, Molly.
Categories: arts & entertainment, relationships
#AWW Book Review: Mateship with Birds 
I die of love 
Quick Hit: I’m not sexist says Bob Ellis 
De Botton on sex – even odder than you might have expected -
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Queen of the household, Molly.
Categories: arts & entertainment, relationships
Hoyden About Town 
Good Lord! The eyes! THEY CONTAIN DEATH RAYS!
TimTs last blog post..That wonderful, all purpose food product, mostly used for eating
Please tell me those eyes are Photoshopped.
Good LORD! The eyes! THEY HAVE DEATH BEAMS!
TimTs last blog post..That wonderful, all purpose food product, mostly used for eating
[sorry Tim, it appears that you attracted the attention of the spaminator! ~tigtog]
No, they’re not ‘shopped, it’s just the feline equivalent of red-eye.
I like to think of it as the camera revealing the otherwise invisible laser controls that she uses to dominate us.
As soon as I saw the title for this post in my live bookmarks I knew it was about a cat 🙂
She looks a lot like my Samantha.
[admin magicked]
mimbless last blog post..Brunch
They do look very alike!
The eyes! The eyes!
Our cat only lets us stay in the house so that we can open the door for her to let her in. Then open it to let her out. Then open it to let her in. Then open it to let her out. And so on. Ad infinitum.
Now *that’s* what I call Natural Order. Men and Women can wrangle for dominance, but we all really know who (or what) is boss.
What a beautiful girl that is.
Deborah, my dad (also a cat owner, erm, landlord, ah, servant) has a fridge magnet I gave him that says
TO DO LIST
Let the cat in
Let the cat out
Let the cat in
Let the cat out
Let the cat in
Let the cat out
I posted about this topic not long ago, prompted by realising that both the people in the house have gradually become completely accepting of any cat’s right to sit on you and your stuff at any time no matter what you were trying to do.
Was reading this poem last night about the matter of cats seeking their repose in unlikely places. I think it says all that needs to be said:
A poet’s cat, sedate and grave
As poet well could wish to have,
Was much addicted to inquire
For nooks to which she might retire
And where, secure as mouse in chink,
She might repose, or sit and think… (etc)
Sorry about the doubled up comments, btw. (Repeats to self: Must not try to outwit the enspammulator. Must not try to outwit the enspammulator. Must not…)