Cat on a Cool Marble Sink

081305cat.jpg

Saturday. 5 a.m.

You stumble downstairs to the kitchen to make coffee. While the java brews, you shuttle to the bathroom near the kitchen for the usual morning business.

And this greets you.

The look needs no translation: "Buzz off, I'm trying to sleep here."

No wonder the two older cats in the house fear this little bundle of orange fur named Dr. Jekyl.

He turns up where you least expect him and isn't too happy with the interruption.

You buy them soft, cushy cat beds at the pet store but they sleep, instead, on the cold bricks of the hearth or lie draped over the stairs in just the right place to trip you when you stumble down those stairs in the dark in search of that morning jolt of caffiene.

Or they sleep in sinks, in the dark, away from the devious plots of two older cats who seek revenge against this hellion who dared invade their space. You do your business, turn off the bathroom light and wash your hands in the kitchen sink. Some things are best left alone.

081305cat.jpg

Saturday. 5 a.m.

You stumble downstairs to the kitchen to make coffee. While the java brews, you shuttle to the bathroom near the kitchen for the usual morning business.

And this greets you.

The look needs no translation: "Buzz off, I’m trying to sleep here."

No wonder the two older cats in the house fear this little bundle of orange fur named Dr. Jekyl.

He turns up where you least expect him and isn’t too happy with the interruption.

You buy them soft, cushy cat beds at the pet store but they sleep, instead, on the cold bricks of the hearth or lie draped over the stairs in just the right place to trip you when you stumble down those stairs in the dark in search of that morning jolt of caffiene.

Or they sleep in sinks, in the dark, away from the devious plots of two older cats who seek revenge against this hellion who dared invade their space. You do your business, turn off the bathroom light and wash your hands in the kitchen sink. Some things are best left alone.

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3 Responses

  1. I don’t know, mankind’s had eons, literally millennia of experience to learn from the feral killing machine that lies scarcely hidden under the bare twitch of the average ginger tomcat’s tail.
    And what happens when a grown man, particularly in view of the breadth of your experience, lays eyes on a tiny bundle of orange fuzz that’s yet to morph past the giant eyeballs stage in its evolution?
    That’s right, genetic race memory has a fatal error, his brain packs its luggage and migrates to his backside. You deserve everything the little bugger’s gonna give you 😉

  2. There’s an old parable that fits this photo:

    The clever Chinese say they read
    The time in eyes of cats.

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