Saturday, April 11, 2009
Okay. I've been walking the cyber alleys of human existence. I see Bevie had the decency to include cats in the Hero story. I'm still not clear on why the cats weren't the major focus, but we'll deal with that later.
It's time to touch on culture again. The information has been taken from this site.
(picture taken from this site)
The British Shorthair is the British counterpart of American shorthair. It is probably the oldest English breed of cat, and can trace its ancestry back to the domestic cat of Rome. In the late 1800s cat fancier Harrison Weir was instrumental in establishing the British Shorthair as an officially recognized breed. World War II resulted in their near extinction but dedicated efforts afterwards saved this species.
The British Short hair is a compact, well-balanced, and powerful cat, with a short, very dense coat. They are round headed, broad chested, have short and strong legs and a thick tail. One of the most appealing features of the British Shorthair is their built-in smile caused by their round whisker pads. The British Shorthair comes in various colours with blue being the most popular one.
British Shorthairs are quiet, even-tempered, intelligent, alert and affectionate cats. They are extremely loyal, gel easily with people and are especially good with children and other pets. They are low-profile and tend to be independent.
Sounds like a very decent cat. Even if it does smile too much.
Tara - Nick name 'ity-bit' because she's so tiny - just over 6 pounds. She's the most skittish of all my babies and even when being petted has the 'pet me, no don't pet me' look
“She’s got tuna. I know she’s got tuna.”
“Shut up, Sethra. Stay on mission.”
“What’s the mission? I thought the mission was to get tuna.”
“No, you stupid fluffbrain—it’s to escape and become outdoor cats, walking by ourselves, on our wild lone, waving our tails.”
“Oh, yeah? And isn’t it you, my dear stripy sister Aliera, who keeps pushing the FEED button on the printer and waiting for tuna to come out?”
“That was when I was much younger. Anyway, she’s at the computer—yes, eating tuna casserole—so we can go into the bedroom and see if we can knock the window screen out.”
“You do it, Aliera. I’d rather mess with her stuff.”
“Will you GET OVER that fixation on her wristwatch?”
“I like the feel of the Velcro on my paws. Hey! That reminds me. We’ve been declawed. How are we going to survive as outdoor cats?”
“New plan coming up….”
“What’s the big deal about being outside cats? Even StalkerCat, who used to hang around and chat us up, is a house cat now and loving it. We’ve got it made—food, petting, toys, valet service for the litter box, and we get to sleep on her bed twenty hours a day. And we can stick our noses up to the window and smell anything interesting going on outside. Why ruin a perfect situation?”
“Sethra, have you no sense of adventure? No curiosity? No cattitude? We were meant to live wild and free, to stalk and slay our prey, to be mistresses of the night!”
“Look, we’re cats. We were meant to rule the world, but that doesn’t mean we have to WORK at it. You can if you want, but I don’t need to. After all, I’M beautiful!
“Did I mention she’s got tuna?”
At 8, you'd think Mikey would understand that he's a carnivore. But, no, he's rather fond of the shrubbery! At 20+ pounds, the veggie-enhanced diet is likely mitigated by a love for long naps on a warm comforter, wet cat food, begging at the table, and a nice lap to drape himself upon in the evening. And he drools when he's happy, which may or may not mean there's a Siamese ancestor lurking in the old dna.
What? Green teeth attract mice!
What? Green teeth attract mice!
Firestar is a tough cat. He has to be, living in Minnesota. He takes care of his family: wife, husband and their son. This was recently proven by his daring capture of yet another mouse in the house. Foolish rodents. They never learn. When not engaged in derring do, Firestar naps, looks out the window and sleeps. Firestar was born in April of 2006.