A Very French Ending

Today He came to tell me that we could not have this relationship any more, and that He would not be back.

It was sad, deeply artistic too, I almost felt like smoking in a black and white kitchen.

It was very French.



He will not be back to stare at me while I perform my crazy breakdancing in the kitchen.



We will not read Foucault together anymore.

Well.

Meow.

I can hear keys in the door.

Some of the usual

On His advice, I am seriously taking up a job in the Purring industry.

And that will be my CV picture:



Alone He came at dawn. We had the usual: food, (poo), losing heaps of hair all over the place.

The purring.



And then we read more Foucault, up to the part where the nobility resort to history against the crooked deals between the monarch and the bourgeoisie.



He lets me fight with His hand and arm. I like to bite Him between the thumb and the index.

Or just below the thumb, where there is more skin and less bone:



Back to the kitchen, I did my crazy back spin. I love it! Breakdancing is definitely in my range.



I got weekend nostalgia and sat there with Him, staring at the sun still shining over the Meadows.



Purr till Monday.

Six Feet Under

Oh, hi.



He has been coming for a few days now. Because She is allergic to my hair, He uses the following trick: He leaves a t-shirt in the kitchen and puts it on when He arrives, and then puts back his normal top when He leaves. The t-shirt has a stats joke on it and is covered with my own hair.



Tonight, She came in and They watched Six Feet Under Season Four. I missed the previous seasons and did not get much out of it, but any occasion to linger on a couch is acceptable to me.



I was nice with Her, and got lots of free hugs from Him in return:



Tomorrow He will probably come alone, and we will play our usual games.

Enjoy your night.

Working day

Today, He had to work.

He brought his computer, so I could finally take a look at my own blog:



Although there was a lot of work to be done, He did not forget to take some time off, and I did not forget to purr endlessly on the couch.



I tried to help Him by jumping on His knees every five minutes, but I guess health policy is not my thing in the end: My comments were not very constructive.



Instead, I went back to what I know best: food, and misplaced curiosity.

Here am I sharing a meal with my best chap, Brown Bear:



And here I am, making my most inquisitive move towards Him:

Listening to Marcel Duchamp

Today I pooed, and He cleaned after me.



Here am I next to today's New York Times -- A proof that I am alive and well:



He came in at 15.26 and I was rather happy to see Him, so I lost even more hair than usual and purred like crazy.

He listened to some music by Steve Reich and John Adams, notably the First and Second Movements from Grand Pianola Music. I went bonkers for no reason when He listened to Music for Pieces of Wood by Steve Reich!

I still do not understand what happened to me. I think I prefer his Music for Marcel Duchamp:



It was very much fun, we played a lot on the sofa and on the Meadows chair. He read quite a lot also, He took three books from the bedroom: Donald MacKenzie (Statistics… He seemed interested by the chapter on R. A. Fisher), David Bloor (Wittgenstein. A Social…) and Michel Foucault (Society Must…).

I like Michel too:



I spent some time going from room to room, I think the noise in the staircase was bothering me. I look very much like an Egyptian cat when I just stand there without moving, listening to Steve Reich.

I do feel like a Prince sometimes.

Sunbathed window

I slept on the bed.



He came this morning at 8.58 to feed me. I still had tons of food left from yesterday; All He had to do was top it up and change the water.

Listen to me purring:



He decided to read three chapters in the sunbathed seat that overlooks the Meadows. I like this place too. When He removed the big chair cushion, I came to lose my hair next to Him. I also gave a thorough check to the Meadows, spotting a few people playing snob tennis. I hid under the table for a change.







I was in a fighting mood so I decided to piss Him off and provoke him at a game of let-me-try-to-bite-your-hand, which was quite fun for both of us because He obviously has a great deal of experience with that game. I managed to grab a bite at his cam, though--I have my own tricks.



Oh, by the way, He took lots of pictures and has apparently set up a Flickr set just for me.

Purr, me likes it.

I will pose now, if you excuse me:

First encounter with Them

Today, They came at 15.36 to make sure They could open the door properly. They had trouble with the locks, but managed to come in in the end.

I purred quite a bit. I actually like Her. He was typing on his computer in the living room, She was looking at the DVD collection--she spotted the Herzog/Kinski boxset, I assume They have the same.

They played a bit with me, I purred more and fooled around with Him on the rug:





He listened to Underworld, "Spoonman" (from Dubnobasswithmyheadman, 1994), and then changed my water. She lied down on the couch and looked at "Nature" by Andy Goldsworthy.

I lost lots of hair as I usually do and lingered more on the rug.