Ladies and Gentlemen, Mister Butler Dynamo
He comes when called.
He follows me from room to room, just kind of staring at me.
He holds a sit/stay while I eat, patient to see if there will be any table scraps for him.
He doesn't meow.
Yesterday, I caught him burying a bone in the yard.
I think I may have a dog...
Official Not-so-Daily Wordcount-o-Meter:
29,663 words,
down from 35k and boy am I unhappy about that!
7 comments:
LOL. Burying a bone? Not one from those bodies you buried yourself back there, I hope.
Goodness, he's grown into a handsome cat.
My Huckleberry follows me from room to room, and comes when I call, too. We're always telling him he should have been born a dog (except he's not happy-go-lucky, like a dog; he sulks and is very, very devious). The others don't seem to notice whether I'm here or not, as long as someone else remembers to feed them.
My last remaining cat, Dulcinea, also likes to be with me as I work or eat. But she's not quiet about it. If she loses track of where I am, she starts wailing, I call to her, and we go back and forth until she follows my voice and finds me.
Cats certainly have a wide range of personalities.
Midge is prim and dignified, and likes a good conversation. Her nickname around the house is the Dowager Dutchess.
She's far too ladylike to allow her adventures to be recorded in this blog...
Do you think he minds being a dog in a cat's body? And there are no trans-species operations available yet for him, alas.
On the other hand, maybe he doesn't want to be a dog completely...not for him the indignity of rousting the mail carrier or chasing a car down the street, eh?
*ROFL* He's a cutie-pie, even if a possible serial killer. ;)
He looks a lot like my cat Jake--before he blew up into a twenty-one pound monster.
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