A Yroa Moggy's life

The other morning I went in to see if Judy wanted a cup of tea.  This is what I found.  The moggy is Freddie.  I'm bound to say that when I first walked in and lookeed in the half light I thought Judy had a acquired a Davy Crockett hat but on closer inspection I relaised that hats don't purr and that's what this one was doing.  Contentedly.  Loudly.  This picture required the use of the flash but first I had to remember how to activate the flash.  Panic!  Where was the manual?  Oh yes.  I remembered now.  The manual is helpfully embedded in a PDF file on a CD that came with the camera.  Where's the CD I hear you ask?  Good question.  I've no idea right now.  NO that's not strictly true.  The answer is - packed away.  Somewhere.  The great thing about this camera is that if you turn the knob thing at the top for long enough most things seem to improve, and that's what happened.  The picture is proof of my assertion.

This morning I woke to the experience of my throat being walked on by a moggy.  Guess who?  Yup.  Freddie had arrived!  I let him continue to tread me in as I struggled to become fully awake.  He wasn't actually too much bother as he has lost his WINTER WEIGHT.  God help me.  If he'd still been carrying all that moggy lard he'd have got the old heave ho smartly because I wouldn't have been able to breathe. 

Some years ago when Judy and I were living apart I acquired a kitten thqat used to amuse me by its late night antics.  For example, it would perch on my chest and procede to wash me.  YES, wash me!  You know how rough a cat's tongue is eh?  You don't?  Trust me it's tongue.  Real rough especially when it's licking your eyelids?  EYELIDS!?  Uhuh.  One night I remember putting up with it for a while until I decided that I'd had enough and debated how I could tip the cat off.  I settled on the famous Nielsen-Rapid-Roll.  This manouvre proved to be a very bad choice because I'd failed to read a moggy-owner's handbook.  I didn't know but discovered kittens have the ability to correct for sudden events at a speed that far exceeded my speed of turn by several nano-seconds.  Nanoseconds after executing my sudden turn in my bed the kitten clung on to my face (make that eyebrows and cheeks) with a reflex response that Cassius Clay possessed (circa 1965) at the beginning of his professional boxing career.  I remember having to explain my injuries to my class the next morning.  Being still traumatised from my late night experience I and felt much worse as a consequence of their complete lack of empathy.  One girl cried.... with laughter.  On well.

As for this morning's episode, well, it all ended peaceably.  Feddie's fur tickled my nose; I sneezed loudly. Freddie got off my throat to investigate the noise and I got up out of bed uninjured.  Hooray!