Thursday, August 04, 2005

Talking to cats

Talking to cats

Cats can talk. I just wish they'd talk in English. I could even manage a little French or Spanish. But no. Cats choose to speak in innuendo and body language that is mysterious and unknowable. It's always a matter of trying different things to see if you have translated correctly.

Patrick doesn't actually speak all that much. But when he does, wow!, is he ever insistent. He does head butts, walking on me, plaintive meowing and big sighs. None of which are conclusive. No, not more food? No, don't want to play? How about a nice brush? Oh, I guess that must have been it. I sure got a lot of loose hair out and he's stretched out, dangerously close, by my chair.

He also seems to be happier with the weather. He's actually been seen running through the house in the early morning, while it's still cool.

I have some pictures of my new sock yarn but the batteries have to be recharged first.

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