@BorisKitten,
Happy sure is a big guy! Well fed!
Thanks for posting pics of your kitties!
Here's that Miss Mollie pic again, this time with a difference.
Click on photo to see -- and hear:
@neko nomad,
Too bad there aren't any songs about cat's sleeping!
@roger,
Quote:"a mix of some sort". Right.
I guess I'm kinda wondering because Maine Coons aren't supposed to be "fully grown" until they're 3 to 5 years old.
Ack! Happy isn't even 1 1/2 in the pictures!
I'll have to give him an entire bedroom if he gets any bigger! Oh wait, he already has his own bedroom...
No doubt he's more Siberian, right? Yep, all grown up now, Hapster, no need to get any larger or pouffier!
@Francis,
That's Nermal. Wrong color, but that's Nermal.
@Reyn,
Well, I'm pretty sure similar thoughts crosses Miss Mollie's mind every time
she returns from a pre-dawn security sweep of the property, as I let her
back inside for a laid out breakfast - after a welcome treat - of Cat
Chow, Fancy Feast, and a bit of coffee cream. Afterwards, she'll sleep
like a log.
Here is a cat poem I found that I like and am dedicating to our new kitty Sophie:
------
Rescued Cat
Once I was a lonely cat,
just looking for a home.
I had no place to go,
no one to call my own.
I wandered up and down the streets,
in rain in heat and snow.
I ate what ever I could find,
I was always on the go.
My skin would itch, my feet were sore,
my body ached with pain.
And no one stopped to give a pat,
or gently say my name.
I never saw a loving glance,
I was always on the run.
For people thought that hurting me
was really lots of fun.
Then one day I heard a voice
so gentle, kind and sweet,
And arms so soft reached down to me
and took me off my feet.
"No one again will hurt you,"
was whispered in my ear.
"You'll have a home to call your own
where you will know no fear."
"You will be dry, you will be warm,
you'll have enough to eat,"
"and rest assured that when you sleep,
your dreams will all be sweet."
I was afraid I must admit,
I've lived so long in fear.
I can't remember when I let
a human come so near.
And as she tended to my wounds,
and bathed and brushed my fur.
She told me about the rescue group
and what it meant to her.
She said, "We are a circle,
a line that never ends."
"And in the center there is you
protected by new friends."
"And all around you are
the ones that check the pounds,
and those that share their home
after you've been found."
"And all the other folk
are searching near and far."
"To find the perfect home for you,
where you can be a star."
She said, "There is a family,
that's waiting patiently,
and pretty soon we'll find them,
just you wait and see."
"And then they'll join our circle
they'll help to make it grow,
so there'll be room for more like you,
who have no place to go."
I waited very patiently,
the days they came and went.
Today's the day I thought,
my family will be sent.
Then just when I began to think
it wasn't meant to be,
there were people standing there
just gazing down at me.
I knew them in a heart beat,
I could tell they felt it too.
They said, "We have been waiting
for a special cat like you."
Now every night I say a prayer
to all the gods that be.
"Thank you for the life I live
and all you've given me.
But most of all protect the cats
in the pound and on the street.
And send a Rescue Person
to lift them off their feet."
Author: Arlene Pace
@BorisKitten,
The mysterious inner universes of cat's minds...
made even more confusing....
@tsarstepan,
TeeHee!
Yeah, but one thing cats are certain of about humans: whatever we are, we are NOT gods, or even minor demi-kitchen-gods. We are their personal servants!
@BorisKitten,
Of course not. Feed a dog and it thinks you are a god. Feed a cat and it thinks
it is a god.
Now that I have a scanner working, I get to show two of my own cat photos from the days of yore.
Spackle, the former kitten, resting on mother, Cinque.
Rascal, born in a closet, liked enclosing spaces throughout her life .. in this case a painted clay pot from Rosarito Beach.
@ossobuco,
Cinque must have been quite a mom to put up with all that, and a beauty, as well. Spackle reminds me so much of Buddy, the feral that didn't quite come in from the cold soon enough.
@ossobuco,
ossobuco wrote:Spackle, the former kitten, resting on mother, Cinque.
Great photo, Osso!
Reminds me of our cats from years back, re: lying on top of!
@Reyn,
Roger and Reyn, I have a lot of memories about those cats.
Cinque was a former kitten at my ex's and his parent's house in south LA. I'd never lived with cats - my mother despised them (this may or may not be related to my asthma, but in any case is not her fault.)
Plus there was this powderpuff, whom we named Spackle as we were into remod.
I've talked of Cinque before. She was the one who hung out on the top of the front fence (42" hgt), and we watched as a guy after mass always stopped to pet her, for many weeks. One Sunday she was gone, and we never saw her or the guy again. Talk about sorrow.
I have posted on this, in that I jogged after him in an effort to find his place when I saw him a couple of years later, but lost him.
@roger,
Roger, Cinque was the cat that talked with me, as a beginner.
@ossobuco,
Quote:Now that I have a scanner working, I get to show two of my own cat photos from the days of yore.
Ah the cats of yore, osso. We never forget them, do we? (Nor the dogs of yore, for that matter.)
This is interesting, because I always thought of you as more of a "dog person". Now I see things rather differently.
Delightful photographs. Thanks for posting them.
