While I was writing my last post, our sabre-tooth tomcat, Garfunkle, came over to my desk yowling in his eerily soft voice, and deposited a mouse at my feet. I gave him an ear rub, finished the post, then got up to get a paper towel. When I got back to my seat, I found Garfunkle was very politely taking care of it himself.
It's just those little crunching noises that get to me.
3 comments:
Me too! Plus the entrails that get strewn across the walkway.
Did the cat barf up the mouse on my dining room table?
No?
I'm happy.
CC
who still holds that maneuver against that particular cat.
ms, kitty- Garfunkle doesn't leave entrails behind- he cleans up so well I'd never know if he didn't have to proudly announce the fact.
CC- He never barfs up dinner, but his leonine mane means he produces truly magnificent hairballs.
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