Mini here!

I know how much you miss me when I'm off climbing fences, chasing ze leetle birdies, and drooling over those delicious squirrels. That's what cats do, n'est pas? Especially moi. It's springtime and ... well, you know. Some things are private, non? I come and go when I feel like it. But...

I'm so worried, my guardian just said the dreaded word -- "luggage". And there is clean litter in my box and such a huge pile of cat food in my bowl. These are just not good omens, if you know what I mean. I'm trying to think positive, but it is no good.

The word Paris keeps coming up too, after all, it is April. And I have not been informed about anything (as usual). I can feel it in my very whiskers. I'll be left here with ze doors locked and the windows shut tight, for such a long time. Alors!

A cat's memory

It has been so long since my last post, I hope you are still with me. As you may already know, cats have really short memories. Sunning ourselves and napping keep us pretty busy -- so I forget to blog. Alors!

A cat can be really upset one minute, hissing, tail feathers exploding, and then the next minute, she has forgotten all about it. I think that's where the term hissy fit originated, but I digress. After a leetle while, we are once again in love with life, with the sunshine streaming through the window, with the birdies playing in the birdbath outside, and with the purring sound coming from our favorite pal. Life is good once again.

Harboring grudges is so outre, and I mean that in a negative way. Getting even, another horror. Why not just shrug it off, like ze french chats do, and go on loving life. It will soon be dinnertime and then evening, my most relaxing part of the day. But first, I must nap.

Tooey!

If you want to see my significant other, scroll to the bottom of my blog. It's Tooey, my love.

Thanksgiving food crisis

You will not believe what happened to me a few days ago. The people I live with suddenly packed their bags and left, without so much as a fond farewell. They were gone forever, or that's what it seemed like. I thought, surely, somebody will come by and feed me, for they had forgotten to fill up my food bowl in their haste to depart. Pauvre moi.

Oh meow, zee petite chat needs her food! Plus, it was Thanksgiving. Alors! I know it was Thanksgiving because I could smell the wafting aroma of turkey flesh cooking. It's not exactly what I prefer for Thanksgiving, but a cat does what a cat must do. If you must know, I prefer le beuf tartar for dinner, or a petit poisonne if possible. But I digress.

When they finally dragged themselves home I was considering eating newspapers. It had been three days since I heard the pleasant sound of the can opener, the rustle of a food bag, the tinkle of the chat treats hitting the floor. I was famished and so was my rather slim-ish companion. She's getting so skinny I don't even like to cuddle with her any longer. We dug in, and snubbed them royally for several whole minutes.

But now all is well again. The crisis is definitely over and once again life is good. I think I'll go sit in the window now and rest. Au revoir, ta-ta and all that.

Mini

Mini's Mona Lisa smile

Have you ever looked carefully at a cat's face? Cats, in general, are quite serious. We never smile, not even enigmatically, like her highness, La Mona Lisa. Why is that? Non, it is not simply genetics, rather we are serious because cat business is tres, tres importante.

On mousing

Urban cats don't have real jobs, unfortunately. Our main responsibilities in life are to purr, sleep and be persnickety. I find that job description rather limiting at times. As a cat who was literally raised on Kierkegaard and Proust, purring seems like a rather mundane raison d'etre. Sometimes I need to do something meaningful, like chasing mice, but we don't have any real mice around here. I only have toy mice stuffed with cat nip. Yummy! I just cannot help myself, I do enjoy tossing my furry little toy mice around, especially the ones with the rattles inside them. They are especially fun in the middle of the night when everybody is sleeping (except me). And the catnip, so habit forming. Sometimes I think I need rehab. The Tom and Jerry Rehab center is booked, as usual, with my catnip-addicted pals. I'm tired now. I think I'll purr for a little while and then take a nap in the window sill.

Remember: Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards. That's Kierkegaard, you know.

Cat scans...

...are highly over rated. Cats don't need to see the insides of things, the outsides are awful enough. As a sensible cat, I can scan everything I need to from my perch on the window sill.