This Cat…

It’s Shads again.

He’s kicked his ceiling fan phobia although sometimes his imagination will run wild and he’ll bolt from the bed or the couch, tail fluffed, claws out, eyes wide,

- maybe a reflection in a mirror, or a shadow falling across him, or a slight movement caught out of the corner of his eye -

whatever it is that’s spooked him, he’ll disappear…for hours…or until he hears a can-ring pop, or the rattle of his food being replenished or treats on offer.

Magic, our black cat, has taken to drinking water from the kitchen tap…

…it’s really a faucet I doubt even an English housewife in the suburbs would bring herself to call this fancy piece of engineering a mere tap…

His preference for running water went largely un-noticed by Shads until recently.

Then, curiously, he decided to check it out.

Never one to do anything by halves he spurned the typical counter-sitting position perfected by Madge,


and stands or sits in the sink, not really knowing what he’s supposed to be doing!

He lets the water trickle down his back to puddle at his feet.

He’ll bat at it and cause it to splash his face and get in his eyes.

He’ll shake himself off and sneeze.

“He’s taking his shower,” Hubs will say.

Each tentative visit to the kitchen sink brings him a little closer to the purpose of the running water,


but he still hasn’t gained the finesse of his best friend who perseveres in an attempt to show him the correct way each time he’s joined at his new trick.

There are many ways to drink from a faucet…

Shadow’s way tickles me pink!


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