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Don't use the water pistol! my 'Buffy' has never forgiven me. Even now I am made to suffer. I am still a cat pariah, I am shamed at every opportunity, she will approach everyone else in the room for a fuss, then dip her back if I try a crafty stroke. I have been ostracized! I am obviously considered some sort of cat pervert, a stroke of her head results in a ten minute wash to remove all traces of my filthy hands. However on a Monday, steak & chips night, I have a new friend that lovingly looks up at me and stretches out her little white paws as if to say "Don't forget me daddy" and like a fool I cut up little pieces of steak on a saucer. Who sees that she is in at night? me! Who gives her tit-bits? me! Who dries her when she is wet? me! Who could go to hell in a handcart? me!
Does this look like affection? or just another attempt to lull me into a false sense of security before she pounces! having said that we had steak tonight, so who do you think came up for seconds, thirds & fourths?
crazycat wrote:to stop cats scratching the furniture use a water pistol. I trained my cats with one and they do not scratch anything they're not supposed to except for Annadongela.
I've not dabbled with any Haiku for a quite a while. This morning however I seem to be thinking about everything in a haiku pattern.
Have you ever had a go at haiku? It can be quite therapeutic....
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Cherry blossom falls
Confetti blown on the wind
Tears shed on pavement
Experience is not what happens to you;