Happily Ever After
Life in The Rural Retreat with a beautiful wife, three cats, garden wildlife, a camera, a computer – and increasing amounts about running
Breakfast With Pandora
by Russell Turner - 20:06 on 08 March 2016
People unfamiliar with moggies often labour under the delusion that all meows are the same. This is not correct.
Maia's raucous demand for food is easily distinguished from her post-hunt cry of triumph (when she trots indoors proudly carrying a chicken carcass or broccoli stem). Similarly, Pandora's plea for a playmate can't be mistaken for her reminder that it's bedtime and no-one has yet gone upstairs. Willow, on the other hand, has a wide vocabulary of squeaks and chirrups that defy translation.
So when Pandora, seated on the shelf above the radiator after breakfast this morning, uttered a plaintive wail I knew exactly what was coming. The slight pant and protruding tongue only confirmed it.
Within seconds she'd disgorged the contents of what looked like twice the volume of her stomach over the edge of the shelf. Thankfully, for the sake of our armchair and carpet, I had quick reactions and an empty toast plate to hand.
The cause of her complaint is a mystery, for there was nothing to be seen but breakfast – no luckless voles or careless chaffinches. Whatever, within minutes she was trotting around as though nothing had happened while I cleaned up.
The joy of cats.
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