Continuing this fragile thread of survival - cats n books also have a close affinity. They are the dyad of comfort and nurture. The absolute pleasure of a warm little body curled up against your back and a can't- put- down book in hand is a particular joy that has kept me safe for many a year of my childhood and my adult life.
It seems as I progress through the A to Z of this challenge that I am going through the years and its is becoming a useful and reflective tool.
My first cat, Sandy was orange and white and petite in stature but he knew it was his job to sit on the front step overlooking his terrain and keep all intruders at bay. There was a rather nasty little brown and black dog that lived down the street - small like a jack russell and his owner a rather large and bombastic woman would pass by our house on their frequent walkies. Of course a scuffle would ensue quite frequently. One day there was a knock on the door and the owner complained quite vehemently about our cat - who weighed at least one quarter of the weight of the pooch - to say that our lovely sweet little cat was constantly slashing her dog's nose and it had to stop.
If you knew my mother you could probably imagine how quickly the aforesaid dog owner was despatched back down the street. I think Sandy might have had a special treat that night. Now folks - this is the same cat that allowed me to dress him in my christening outfit of bonnet and dress in a particluarly lovely white satin and push him up and down my street in the lovely pram I had been given for xmas.
I share this story in order to allow those feeble minded, cat-haters of the most despicable kind to perhaps have an inking of the multi-faceted nature of the feline vairieties. For all thos lovers of the species I hope you enjoyed the "tail",
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