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Mini: a French cat's view of the world

as told to Dianne k.

Mini Here! It's been quite a while since my last post. Let me catch you up.

The love of my life, Tooey, is getting older. She sleeps all the time now, night and day, sometimes on a heating pad. I try to get my turn to rest my own weary bones on this wonderful item, but she hardly ever leaves it. She still eats well and since we share the same bowl, I have to be on my toes. She's a very skinny old cat, I'm not sure why that is, the way she eats, oo la la. My figure is not so svelt these days, due to the fact that I am no longer allowed to wander around outside, like those early days in the PD (philosophy department) of the local university.

Alors, what a situation terrific! I am so -- how do you say in America -- bored. There is nothing to do in this lovely paradizo (oops, a leetle Italiano just slipped out, I am such a fine cultured cat, you know). I have taken up eating whipped cream in a perfect blue bowl, and lapping up the remnants of my owner's dinner every night. She is une cook terrible. We are consuming one Lean Cuisine after another. It's is not zee french cooking that comes in zee leetle frozen boxes. I know I shouldn't complain. So much tastier than the unmentionable food I ate when I was young.I

It's a cat's life to sit in the sun and contemplate life. Zee humans are so boring, playing with their electronics all the time, yakking on the phone, or else working themselves into a frenzy getting ready to go out and away from moi. First, to the bath to steam up the place, then to the closet to toss the clothing around, one outfit after another, getting ready for who knows what. I have such a hard time being helpful. I love to bat the sparkly things, sniff the shoes, lie on the piles of sweaters, all in a vain attempt to keep this loved one at home. I know she adores me, but no matter what I do, it doesn't work. She's off, and I never know how long she will be gone. I always pretend not to care when she returns again. But my heart is breaking every minute she is away.

Sometimes she brings out that interesting box with the zipper around it. I love to nap in it when she fills it with "outfits", as she calls them. Zee outfits are awful, I should know. It is not zee Champs Elyseese where she purchased these things. Non, non, Le Marshalls, as I recall, is where she shops. Yuck. She must wear black, like me, if she wants to look like zee beautiful Parisians.

Barkley, the big Oaf!

I can feel spring in the air and I remember zee former loves of my life, ah but I digress. I want to tell you about this other animal who comes to see us way too many times each week. He is une beast. Black like me, but huge. I suspect he is a chien -- um -- I mean a dog. What an interesting word for such a beast. This one they call Barkley, even though I have never heard him bark. He's an oaf, that should be a French word, but it isn't. Zee Oaf licks up whatever morsels are left in our precious bowls, laps up our water, spilling most of it on zee floor, and then begs for more. He totally ignores us chats so we pretend that he is not in the house. I go about my business of napping, pretending to sleep while keeping one chat eye trained on him at all times. I would love to ride on his big back, or bite his tail until he yelps but I restrain myself. Eventually he will go home and once again our peaceful world will be re-established. It's a cat's life, no matter how boring, and nobody should disrupt it.

Here I am in the kitchen, trying to rest. It's so difficult when
Barkley is here. Life gets so complicated when there is
a dog here for a visit.

As you can see, the years fly by in our pleasant abode, while I look out the window at the world passing by and wonder if I will ever travel again. Au revoir for now, let's hope that we have Paris together, at least one more time.

Your Mini

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