The chronicles of Ruin, continued.
Call me Ishmael said....intelligence is knowing what to do when you don't know what to do.
Anonymous said... When I don't know what to do,I come here.
10 September 2009 22:59
Some cats can be so merciless when it comes to the frailties of others. And with their own frailties, they adopt a languid insouciance. 'Chase birds? I find I have no enthusiasm for such kittenish business.'I fear that that is Buster's own garden. In which case, he must recall the better part of valour for the sake of his amour propre.
Either that or he thought that he couldn't eat a whole one.
He still has his moments of speciesism, when the cats have no option but to take flight but often it is as mr PTB describes. It remains Buster's garden though and when he feels like it none would gainsay him.
Why don't you call him Brutus? He's certainly got a lean and hungry look!
Buster appears to be conducting himself with great dignity in the face of crude provocation.
He simply would not give that cat the satisfaction.
Their eyes are windows into a hell of dismembered fledgelings. Jim Corbett gave the big ones the message.
Buster has a stalker!
To the imagined sound of a few notes from the Jaws theme, perhaps, but I thought same thing Agatha.Hope Buster's still gets his fair share of retirement comforts, Mr Ishmael, in spite of the disquieting effect of interspecies rivalry.
Does a plate of fresh crab sandwiches count, mr bhs, or a plate of crab sandwiches with the bread discarded, sniffily, as a retirement comfort? In his senior years he has taken to fish, the more expensive the better and regularly eats haddock, cod, salmon, trout and crab but graciously allowing me to eat the remaining, vegetable components of my dinner. Readers need not fret for his comfort, it is your correspondent who is short-changed in this inter-species coalition; it is I, forced to play gimp, denied my meals and often refused entry to my own bed.
So, Mr. I, basically Buster is becoming more cat-like as he advances in years. I trust you are spared the Evil Eye treatment which all cats have patented, humans for the intimidation of.
I think it's just on the dietary front that he waxes feline, Mr ptb; in other matters he remains an unreconstructed terrier ruffian.
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