Nope, but it's an Italian one (allegedly...) That was the saucepan t' wife cooked up chicken stomachs for the dogs in, when they'd done I stuck the pan on the floor for a preliminary clean and there he was. I have one of a young Squishy Fishy in the self same saucepan, although in that one I'd started adding veg
Sonia406 wrote:Yuck I hate cats..........
I literally hate them... awful creatures...
Just cats, and spiders? Anything else?
Menophanes wrote:If not, it is only because I never stay within his arc of fire long enough; I have lived with Siamese and near-Siamese before. Apart from that, you have read his character perfectly. Never was a cat less aptly named. He bites; not so very hard (he is a sportsman in his way and stays within his own limits), but you know very well that he is there and that he has fangs; he likes toes and will accept a finger if nothing better is available, but what he really aspires to is a nose. He has bitten mine; he has bitten Romeo's (he did this first when he was three months old and the whole of him was about the size of Romeo's tail alone); he would bite a dog's or a fox's or a badger's or a cow's or a horse's if he had half a chance. In addition he is a world-class claw-stropper, if I allowed him anywhere near my car I would need a new set of tyres every month. Wherefore we have never yet dared to let him out of doors.
He sounds like a real rogue
All of ours come and go as they please, there's a cat flap which 3 of them use but Ming Ming wants the doors opened for him, he's just to good for the flap I guess. I suspect the cats here are closer to feral than the cats I've known in the UK, Ming Ming will sit on the wife but not for long. Squish will act playful but if you try to tickle him he'll grab your hand with his teeth and do the disembowel thing with his back claws on your wrist. Billy has probably sat on me maybe twice in her 9 years. Mary-Jane will sit on my lap puddling with her sharp claws but then she's only hoping I'll take her into the kitchen and feed her.
I reckon the tyres are safe but I'm terrified of one of them getting in the Pug and stropping the leather...
George is doing the playful kitten thing now, flitting about like a fly, leaping out from behind furniture doing the goal keeper thing (up on back legs, front legs spread above his head). We has roast chicken for lunch and I had to fill a bowl up for him before I could get any. Then what was on my plate was much more interesting in what he had in the bowl
