Cats, I love them

I am a cat person, I love them, they are graceful, independent, also beautiful. They can be extremely sweet but also very sneaky. They will get their own way if they can. They will sit and stare at you, waiting for you to relent. Waiting to be petted or fed. They can pin you down by sitting on you or your bed, so you dare not move! Sometimes they can be trained, mine come when I whistle, which is good because I think the sound of a whistle goes further than a voice can. I’ve had cats all of my adult life, or should I say, they’ve owned me!

He’s looking at me

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Warning, discussing carnivore thoughts.

You know you are truly owned by a car when it sits on the fridge and stares at you. Where is my cat milk? It seems to say. Is it properly chilled? Not too cold, but just enough to cool the cat on a warm afternoon.

Is there roast chicken in the fridge for him. Delicately flavoured with just the right amount of jelly juices.

You know you are owned when the cat looks down at you, then puts his paw out and catches the shoulder of your tee shirt, claw holding firm and stopping you in your tracks.

If cats could speak what would they say? Probably feed me. Hold me, look after me. Sort out my litter tray, human.

What do we get for this care? Kneeding paws that turn to claws, licked boyyoms then they lick your hand, ew! But you can’t fight those eyes. Those staring eyes.