Posted by on Aug 29, 2021 | 22 comments

 

 

 

 

 

 

Papa is soooo cool. (Hey, he’s rubbing, right?)

And when I say cool I mean that my mama and papa and I have a pretty nice relationship with one another and appear to really like where we are with respect to our being a couple + kitty, even if THEY aren’t spring chickens any longer and really could give up all that lovey-dovey stuff at this age but oh, no, that’s not for them.

They’re always kissin’ and huggin’ and laughin’ like teenagers and boy, in the morning it’s like winding a yarn ball back up again to get something to eat because they’re in there snuggling and talking about the day and making little kitty sounds, like me when I dream, and I have to really watch out because if I get too close they say things like ‘lie down, lie down, no, no, Loulou, not on the stomach, not on the head, kitty, LOULOU, we’re just waking up (!)’ and mama says, ‘watch her, honey, she’s hungry and could tear your throat out’, but hell, is THIS the muzzle of a kitty about to do anything like that, just because one day MAMA was a bit too playful and sort of scared me suddenly and my claw went out and caught her wrist and it went pretty deep, a puncture wound they called it, whatever that is, and that night her wrist swelled up like a sausage and turned red and the doc had to give her antibiotics for seven days, which meant she couldn’t, with meds, have a nice glass of wine with papa at dinner and so everyone was in a pretty sad mood for a few days, but it was scary, I’ll admit.

Plus I am not a “Hey, let’s tear a throat out” kitty.  I’m a Wuss Puss.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mama went to bed that first day of bologna-wrist and couldn’t move until the amoxicillin kicked in and I lay on the bed with her for consolation, which I am sure helped her get better. I was really sorry about the whole thing, and I don’t like being a scaredy-cat about sudden movements, but there are just some things I can’t get used to—garbage bags being popped open for the poubelle (that’s garbage can in French, more on that later), plastic milk bottles being crushed for recycling, and, this is the worst – that sucker-upper vacuum cleaner!

Oh, my God, do I hate those weird rolling metal creatures and this lovely Ukrainian woman comes in who’s really nice and says “Loulou Loulou” sort of crooning, whatever that is, and she says it over and over and scratches my head and I really like having my head scratched but then she brings out this giant roundish sort of metal animal with a long nose or tail or whatever it is and puts one of its tails in the wall and then, oh, boy, watch out because I’m outta here, under the bed and not coming out until she’s long gone, thank you, not even for dinner or a head scratch!

Well, maybe for dinner.

Other than that, I’m cool as a cucumber, whatever that is, about most things…sort of.  Especially rubs.