Things Cat

We love paws
they have claws
that grow in rows

We love fluffy fur
when stroked, it
emits a purr

We love all things cat
even the ones that are fat
and not only our pet

We love the sleep
in dreams that leap
somewhat like sheep

We do, so love paws
with their neat little rows
of bejeweled claws



It's a rainy day, albeit not in Georgia.
Cats have been asleep until recently and now there is only one sleeping, the other two are outside, watching the muggy coloured, rainy world with some suspicion and a hint of interest.

The fourth cat is still missing. I speak to him in my mind every day and plead with him to return soon. It's unreal how much a person can love a cat if they let themselves. And I did.

And don't get me wrong, I am not sitting here thinking that the poem above is good, or even not bad. It's just that it was inspired by playing with my cat and that makes it brilliant. Please don't send the men in white coats just yet.

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In other news, the neighbour's kid is practicing his drumming again. It's been three years and he is not getting any better.

I, on the other hand, am getting scarily good at imagining various scenarios in which both he and his drum-kit meet with an unwholesome, tragic end. Inevitably, there are a fair few of a head-on collision between the parts of the kit and their owner. Importantly, and unlike the high action thrillers, the collisions are soundless.

I know, I know, you think it can't be done but, trust me, I've thought it all through and I have a plan. I'm not telling you the details, however, I'm thinking of patenting the soundless head slamming, there is bound to be a market for it.


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And now, for your viewing pleasure

Video of my tabbies, when they were very tiny. Backbeats included. Humorous ending guaranteed.