Miaow!
Look at my claw!
It’s definitely a match for this eagle’s claw – who, btw, eats his meat raw.
More claws, in bronze and iron, black and rust.
Personally, I prefer little claws with little birds attached. I just wish those swallows weren’t so high up, and I so low!
Cee’s Midweek Madness: Letter W at the End.
Luckily this break up did not lead to the break up of Henry’s relationship with me. I bought a new teapot. And placed it further back on the shelf. I should also add that Henry hasn’t been on the shelf since then. At least not when I am around.
Our cat Henry is no leopard. Mr Eklastic and I are no Gary Grant and Katherine Hepburn either. Then again, if Howard Hawks had directed us who knows …
That’s my last movie square and my favourite – because Henry who was so cute when he was a baby and because I love screwball comedies. And the German title of the movie is Leopards shouldn’t be kissed when translated back.
The writer in the family, Henry, prefers writing by paw although he can also use the keyboard of the computer.
Sometimes finding the right words is agony.
But once the work is done he can sleep the sleep of the just.
Kater Murr is the feline fictional writer of the autobiography The Life and Opinions of the Tomcat Murr. Murr, who is a proper fuddy-duddy of his time (early 19th century), writes his thoughts about his life and life in general on scrap paper he finds. On the flipsides of the papers are the fragments of a biography of the musician Kreisler, where ETA Hoffmann, the German Romantic-era author, set down his thoughts on art. The whole novel contrasts these two lives on opposite sides of the scale, it offers deep intellectual insights on Hoffmann’s ideas about art and aesthetics on the one hand, and humourous and wild anecdotes of the life of a tomcat.
Linked to the Ragtag Daily Prompt: Write.
Linked to Friday Fun: Hiding.
Linked to the Ragtag Daily Prompt: Shadows.
When Henry was still little and had just moved in with us we couldn’t let him go outside. He sat at the verandah window for hours and kept telling us that he really, really, really wanted to be in the garden.
When I coudn’t take his staring and moaning and begging anymore I decided to buy a harness. Henry wasn’t impressed. Although I bought the smallest size it took him only a couple of minutes to wriggle out of it.
So we kept him inside until he was mature enough (ha!) to be trusted to go outside. We really did it out of kindness but boy! did he accuse us of being cruel.
Square 30 for the KindaSquare Challenge in October.
Linked to Friday Fun: Hidden.
pictures imperfect blog 