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Look into my eyes and come to me, you who have entered my lair.
You are under the power of my will.
I control your actions. Your very thoughts. I am -
Your Master!
Do remember that. Okay?
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Inasmuch as a certain human, who shall remain nameless (but who's name rhymes with "heavy") believes himself to be a writer, I have endeavored to undertake my own foray into the world of words.
To put it simply: I am going to write a story.
A cat story.
About me.
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I began life as a kitten, but I quickly advanced to the major activities of an adult cat.
I majored in rest and sleep. Everyone knows you can't do great things unless you get plenty of rest. And food. And rest.
And so it was that I was engaged in a period of much needed relaxation.
And I dreamed.
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I was stalking my prey from the shadows. (I was in the shadows. Not my prey. Well, it was kind of in the shadows, too, but I was the one really in the shadows. I was a black terror in the night.)
Making a game of it, I allowed my prey to run, chasing in order to maintain the flight-pursuit game, but not trying hard enough to end the game too soon.
Cats are so cool!
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Suddenly, I came upon an ancient artifact of old. (Is that redundant?)
It radiated power. It spoke.
"An ordinary cat you shall be no more. Heneforth, you shall be known as: Lion-Cat."
Cool!
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And I was made anew, granted the power of the great Savannah cats. (Not the city in Georgia - the African Savannah.)I grew apace in strength, knowledge, wisdom, and cunning.
My new life as Firestar: Lion-Cat of the North, had begun.
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I thought I would try something new. Well, new to the blog. Not new to me.
This telling is based on something I began thinking of in 2008, or maybe even 2007. I conceived it as a television show. The main characters,
Old Cat and
Young Mouse, would be played by humans in costume.
Old Cat would be a man and
Young Mouse would be a woman. The show would begin with the two of them meeting and chatting. Their dialogue would be filled with innuendo and double entendre. Eventually, one or the other would begin to relate a story.
Old Cat's stories would be historical, from his past.
Young Mouse's stories would be more recent. At the point where the tales begin the show would revert to animation. The voices for the animation may, ormay not, be the same actors. At the story’s conclusion the show would return to a live action epilogue.
The post which follows is the opening for this story.
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From this site.
Of all families of predators the cat family is the one that varies most in size. Biggest of all is the tiger which may weigh several hundred kilos. The smallest of the small cats is the black-footed cat in South Africa which weighs only just over one kilo. There are many similarities between the two multi-specied genera. Both have retractable claws, all are stealth hunters, i.e. they approach their prey stealthily, and all except the cheetah are skilful climbers. All except the lion live alone.The large cats can roar, but not the small cats.Far to the north, the Norse goddess Freya, is portrayed as riding a chariot drawn by cats, and is always surrounded by cats. The Norse, being seafarers, revered shipboard cats for their rodent control abilities.A 13th century Egyptian sultan left his entire fortune to the needy cats of Cairo. For many years afterward homeless cats received a free meal daily.A cat's got her own opinion of human beings. She don't say much, but you can tell enough to make you anxious not to hear the whole of it. -- Jerome K. Jerome, English author Cats seem to go on the principle that it never does any harm to ask for what you want. -- Joseph Wood Krutch
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From this
website about cats.
Another cat? Perhaps. For love there is also a season; its seeds must be resown. But a family cat is not replaceable like a wornout coat or a set of tires. Each new kitten becomes its own cat, and none is repeated. I am four cats old, measuring out my life in friends that have succeeded but not replaced one another. -- Irving Townsend
Maybe the reason that so many people love the cat is that she is the only example that you can breathe in the presence of man without becoming his slave -- and maybe that is why, so many people hate her. -- Heinrich Saas
Cats are a mysterious folk. There is more passing in their minds than we are aware of. -- Sir Walter Scott
An ordinary kitten will ask more questions than any five year old. -- Carl Van Vechten
Confront a child, a puppy, and a kitten with a sudden danger; the child will turn instinctively for assistance, the puppy will grovel in abject submission, the kitten will brace its tiny body for a frantic resistance. -- Saki
Sir Isaac Newton, who first described the principle of gravity, also invented the swinging cat door for the convenience of his many cats.
Albert Schweitzer: There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats.
Gotta go with you on that, Albert.
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Found another
website about cats. This one has a wealth of interesting bits of information.
Some examples:
Ancient mariners believed that a cat's behavior could foretell a change in the weather. Some sailors considered black cats unlucky since they were thought to bring bad weather. Tortoiseshell cats were often held by seafarers to be lucky and Japanese sailors in particular would carry a tri-colored cat aboard. They believed that such a cat could give early enough warning of an approaching storm for the vessel to return to port to avoid it, and would also send the cat up the mast to "put the storm devils to flight".
In the 1930's. The white male cat, named Napoleon, lived with his owner in Baltimore. His observant owner, Mrs. de Shields, noted that every time before it rained Napoleon would lie on the floor with his front paws extended and tuck his head between them. During Napoleon's lifetime there was a drought. The drought had continued for over a month when his owner noticed the clever cat adopt his "rain on the way" pose. According the official forecast the weather was to continue dry. Unconvinced, Mrs. De Shields telephoned a newspaper and told them that it was going to rain -- her cat had prophesied it. It did indeed rain, and thereafter Napoleon's forecasts were published in the paper. When he died, the tombstone over his grave was inscribed "Napoleon the Weather Prophet 1917 - 1936". It was said that in all the six years that he made his predictions he never got it wrong -- which is more than be said for human meteorologists!
They say the test of literary power is whether a man can write an inscription. I say, "Can he name a kitten?" -- Samuel Butler More forthcoming, I'm sure.
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I wasn't going to post this, but
something about it just made me laugh and smile. Found it at this
site.
Fly-strips are very sticky An e-mail from cat Gina to tomcat Jonas. "Boootiful !!!!!!!!" :o))))))))) Sorry that I take the Mickey, Jonas, but we rarely see such a brush :o)
By the way, you have a partner in the suffering, and that is ME!
Some weeks ago I got stuck with my tummy to a fly- strip which had been attached to the kitchen cupboard. When I tried to get rid of the damn thing I got more and more entangled :o(
My Missus saw this and tried to help by pulling the fly-strip out of my fur - of course it did not work!
After a seemingly never ending time and plenty of the disgusting hot water the terrible thing had disappeared out of my fur, but some of the glue wouldn't come out.
So my Missus got out the scissors, and ...do I have to say more? Absolute disgusting, I looked like a plucked chicken. Meouw !!! But now for the icing of the cake as they say: The girlfriend of my Missus came to visit us, and she greeted me with gusto. She loves me very much, I don't know why. Then she noticed the bare spots on my behind and asked for the reason of my disfigurement. My Missus told her about my mishap, and she wanted to show her friend another spot where some of my fur had been cut off. She lifted me up, so the friend could look under my tummy. She lifted me higher, and higher, and then it happened! She pushed me on to another fly-strip which was hanging from the ceiling, she had overlooked this one, and now I was wrapped up again! Heeeeelp !!!!!!
Once more the scissors came out and I lost my newly grown hair again.
Well, don't YOU talk about embarrassment, I presented a much worse sight.
By now I am as beautiful as ever, yeah.
All my love
--->> GINA <<--- (one of Eki's cats)..
Music to Make the Cats go Wild
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
Amelia - Nickname 'Bratelia' since she gets into every draw, cabinet that she can put her paws in.
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“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!
Who needs a wickerwork basket when you can hop on a cushion and bask?
Rufus is clearly a cat to be reckoned with.
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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.
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Look into my eyes and come to me, you who have entered my lair.
Inasmuch as a certain human, who shall remain nameless (but who's name rhymes with "heavy") believes himself to be a writer, I have endeavored to undertake my own foray into the world of words.
I began life as a kitten, but I quickly advanced to the major activities of an adult cat.
I was stalking my prey from the shadows. (I was in the shadows. Not my prey. Well, it was kind of in the shadows, too, but I was the one really in the shadows. I was a black terror in the night.)
Suddenly, I came upon an ancient artifact of old. (Is that redundant?)
And I was made anew, granted the power of the great Savannah cats. (Not the city in Georgia - the African Savannah.)
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