Posts Tagged ‘pets’

About Poetje’s rendez-vous

October 11, 2007

I wouldn’t pretend immediately the on 10-10-2007 disapeared white angoralike cat did have a rendez-vous, but I swear you strange things have been going on the last month.  Unless neighbour Willy’s girlfriend is an opera singer I think Poetje has sung and even several songs.  Why cats sing I really don’t know and I even have never heared about it.  But I wonder if this isn’t something that all cat pet friends know for themselves, that cats can sing and even talk.  Pity that we lack that scientific support.

The cat must have been disappeared out of hunger and fear.  Yesterday morning I had forgotten all over again her food in supermarket.  She thought she might already go upstairs but I caught her and put her back outside.  I hate her when I see how easily she let flatter, caress and take herself by more urban people.  She had pissed in the kitchen because now and then I experiment with her “fourniture” until it is arranged all the way I prefer.

I wouldn’t be angry for that, in fact it is Willy’s fault, my french talking neighbour.  They all have their big dog here in the house.  I swear you one morning my garbage bag was bitten open and all dirtiness laid spread all over what we call “the allee”.  But when they see my cat who is always very clean as every cat overhere, when they see her in the corridor, that sculpturer woman on the first  starts sawing she doesn’t want to see that cat lie about.  Do you think I still obeye those people as if heaven depended from it? 

“Monique, ça pisse partout”, Willy always says.  In earlier days he poisoned the mice in the cellar.    

Poetje has her microchip also !

September 19, 2007

10-10-2007

Meanwhile Poetje’s “stolen” in fact. Or in any case that’s what I suppose. This morning I left the house for buying a new reserve of food in a supermarket, leaving the cat outside where mostly she waits under a parked car until my return. But this day she followed me gently while I walked over the trottoir.

Just before the corner a woman started talking to Poetje. She hadn’t seen me or didn’t know it was my cat maybe. I didn’t care too much, in fact I wondered if she really HAD got a chip, because mistakes aren’t out of this world, but I thought I could feel the microchip just under her white hairy skin.  Well let this be a good occasion to take the proof.