Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Poor little wash-rag

Cultivate your garden, said Goethe and Voltaire,
Every other task is wasted and dead-born;

Narrow all your efforts to a given sphere,
Seek your Heaven daily in a bit of ground.

So my cat behaves. Like a veteran,
He brushes well his coat before he sits to dine;

All his work is centred in his own domain,
Just to keep his spotless fur soft, and clean, and fine.

His tongue is sponge, and brush, and towel, and curry-comb,
Well he knows what work it can be made to do,
Poor little wash-rag, smaller than my thumb.

His nose touches his back, touches his hind paws too,
Every patch of fur is raked, and scraped, and smoothed;
What more has Goethe done, what more could Voltaire do?

Hippolyte Taine

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Company's comin'!

I just love having company! Like, is there anything more fun than a new playmate?

This is even more enjoyable when they bring new toys along, and sometimes they'll even bring tasty treats. There will be oodles of playtime, laptime, and being petted and scratched all over. I know I can count on being spoiled beyond belief!

What's more, visitors have all these great smells. And if I'm lucky, they'll be wearing something black so I can leave plenty of cathair.

I'm telling you, it's a cat's life.