Happy Furry Friday

This morning, after coffee, looking out the kitchen window, I saw a strange cat sleeping on my cat’s garden pillow. It is not this tabby cat, it is not my tuxedo cat, it is not my orange cat. It is absolutely not going to be my cat. It is a tiny black cat with a single white whisker. It has no collar. We met for the first time and were quickly on friendly terms.

It is here right now, as are my kids. It is seriously skinny, but seems to care more about company and entertainment than it does about food. Of course the same could be said about my kids. I went inside to get my laptop and came out to them saying “We’re calling it Hogarth, or Winona, Neko, Nico, Naruto, Julius Caesar, Tapioca, Howard, Takashi, Skunk, Toph, Rogue, Domino, Knives, Milk Tea, Joaquin, Anish Kap-paw.” and all the names are rejected because they are “too pretentious” or “so wrong.”

Whoever it is, it is absolutely not going to live with us; the other cats do not tolerate interlopers, but kids have a need to name cats. I opened up my laptop and saw this wondrous picture, saw this other magical cat, not one of my cats, not Nico-Anish Kap-paw. I saw this tabby cat, happy with its shadow, and I remembered that cats do not need their names. Happy Furry Friday.



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