Sitting on the lawn with my proxy cat.
The neighbors to the left of the fence have a yappy little dog.
To the right are two cats. (Don't yet know what's behind the actual fence!)
The black and white one is a year old and loooves attention. She'd come in, if we let her. Whenever I come outside I look for her, and give her a big long pet. She looks a bit like Oliver.
Tonight I was upstairs and saw her cutting through the yard, so I made a mad dash for the door, and my step-mother said "I bet I know what she saaaw." And now we're sitting out here, playing around. Nowyou know what happens to your cat when she's away for hours. She's keeping the catless cat lady company.
See her little Hitler moustaches? Or Charlie Chaplin if you prefer.
Posted with Blogsy
3 comments:
She has marvelous whiskers. Elegant. Dramatic. The best whiskers I may have ever seen on a cat, in fact. Do we know her name? You could call her Miss Elegance until we find out. [And those are not moustaches. Those are beauty marks.]
What a beautiful little kitty! How nice to have a proxy cat. I know my previous cat used to visit the lesbian couple and their daughter who lived a couple of houses down. One day when one of the women was bringing in groceries, she walked back in with her second load and found Buffy sitting on her washing machine, looking like she belonged.
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