I wish I had a river so long I could teach my feet to fly ~ Joni Mitchell
Still listening to sad music and missing my buddy when I realized this is not what I want to do.
Rascal lived up to his name right until he left this earth. When we adopted him, Janice from the PAWS shelter called on three separate occasions asking if we were sure we could handle him. If not, she assured me, she would take him. Two other people sent him back, saying he was hard to handle. Puulleeease...he was a six or seven week old kitten. True, when he had his game face on he meant trouble, but don't we all have our game face? I don't mind a little trouble. We loved him at first sight and, for us, the feeling was mutual. He endured being dressed in doll's clothes, two other crazy cats, a gazillion photo sessions and sharing space with a parakeet we found, Signor Figaro, a tank full of tropical fish and, recently, a guinea pig. He took it all in stride.
In fact, we came to believe he had the Rag Doll breed in his esteemed lineage. He was quite posable, though his disdainful looks betrayed this placid facade.
So I decided to listen to something more fitting. The cat was a party animal.
Get back honky cat.
Until I saw your city lights
Honey, I was blind.
They said, get back, Honky Cat
Better get back to the woods'
Well, I quit those days and my redneck ways
And oh, oh, oh, oh, the change is gonna do me good
You better get back, Honky Cat ~ Elton John/Bernie Taupin
Pic ~ Rascal relaxing