Something perhaps more like: ‘gee, isn’t it wise and wonderful of us to create a near-cat with thumbs who knows where the can opener is? My treasured Siamese, Skeeter, even insisted I share the apple slices I gifted the tolerated yellow cur dog, Tiger, and I never rebuked her for spitting out the godsawful bit of fruit both I and Tiger loved. She even included that dog into the herd. He never said no. And when cheese was served along with the apple that cat insisted I separate the paired offerings and didn’t mind me giving her share of discard to dog. Skeets preferred indoors unless Tiger and I set up shop under a spreading Camphor tree and went trolling for loose canines to harass: then she was game and went trolling for pooches to sucker into a two-on-one just-us-cats (right?) fight. You evoke many fond memories, Bruce.

Cat Nap Revue

never leave the house
watch birds— no wonder my cats
think me one of them

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