Bathroom Cats V
A. Langston
8 in. x 10 in.
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Hauser--Cat Out
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READ GARFIELD'S FIRST
CHRISTMAS LETTER
HERE!!!!
Praise for Garfield's First
Christmas Mewsletter ....
Please tell
Garfield that his Christmas Letter was one of the most heartfelt I've
ever read. Ed Kostro Dec 2005
CHECK OUT RICKY'S YOGA SESSIONS
HERE:
One cat is
company. Two cats are a conspiracy. Three cats is an attempted takeover.
Four or more cats is a complete coup!o
Shona
Steele (Australia) |
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5 GOOD REASONS FOR
HAVING YOUR CAT NEUTERED
DID YOU KNOW... |
Images brought to you by
'The
smallest feline is a masterpiece.' Leonardo da Vinci
'Dogs come when called.
Cats take a message and get back to you.'
'Of course, every cat
is really the most beautiful woman in the room.' Edward Verrall Luca,
essayist
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A morning kiss, a discreet
touch of his nose landing
somewhere on the middle
of my face.
Because his long white
whiskers tickled,
I began every day laughing.
JANET F FAURE |
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'Dogs have
owners. Cats have staff.'
'In
the middle of a world that has always been a bit mad, the cat walks with
confidence.'
Roseanne Anderson
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Jimmy, the Resident Daily Mews Feline Columnist has his own place
now:
click here
'Cats make one of the most satisfying sounds in the world: they purr
... A purring cat is a form of high praise, like a gold star on a test
paper. It is reinforcement of something we would all like to believe
about ourselves - that we are nice.' - Roger A Caras
"Of all the [cat] toys available, none is better designed than the
owner himself. A large multipurpose plaything, its parts can be made to
move in almost any direction. It comes completely assembled, and it
makes a noise when you jump on it." -- Stephen Baker
Garfield: 28.03.86 - 12.06.06

Click on the cartoon to take you to
Garfield's tribute pages
GARFIELD and those infamous 20th
birthday pictures. See both birthday hats and more ...
LETTER FROM GARFIELD is a final letter
written with great love to his Mum ...
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"On With The Show!" . . . No Longer Alone . . . Ron Hevener
It's funny, how we get so wrapped up in our lives that we lose sight
of The Big Picture. We have our loves, our enemies, our heroes and
ourselves to think about. We go to work, we pay our bills, we laugh
with our friends . . . and we cry alone.
Sometimes, there just isn't enough room to think about much else. But,
every once in a while, we get a glimpse . . . we hear a whisper . . .
and we remember: There is a bigger world out there, and a greater
purpose for everything in it, than we know.
It can take the breath of a kitten . . . the song of a sparrow . . .
the flight of white swans coming home . . . to remind us. But,
sometimes -- no matter how bleak and hopeless life may seem -- we feel
ourselves lifting up in our hearts. We remember what it was like to be
young. We are ageless, and we are beautiful like cats staring still
and expressionless at the deepening waters of a world growing ever
more difficult to navigate.
It had been months since he died, the cat with eyes so mysterious and
searching that no one who ever saw him went away feeling quite the
same. What was he trying to find, they wondered. What was he missing?
Those who knew him didn't have to ask. They didn't have to ask,
because they knew. He was waiting for the one he loved. He was waiting
for his master.
Over time, his master had found mates for the champion who was so
special to him. He found daughters from great and revered bloodlines
in distant places, some of them champions, too. But, it was the little
one who wasn't quite perfect who caught the cat's attention and held
it.
At first, she wasn't much to look at. All together, it would take
almost a year to restore her health and gain her trust. It would take
the hands of his master to calm her, and the sound of his voice to
soothe her soul. But, in time, little by little, she gave herself over
to life in the small cattery. In lush grass, she played, and from a
cool stream tinted with watercress, she drank happiness.
In the spring, they mated. The daughter of noble heritage joined
forces with the champion who, by now, had seen twelve winters and
would see no more. As he left this world, the voice he loved so much,
said: "Thank you, my friend." As tears fell over him and familiar
hands caressed him for the last time, his master whispered: "Come back
to me . . . Come back to me!'
Winter seemed colder after that. Nights seemed blacker. Colds and flu
and ice . . . When would it end, they wondered? It would end when it
wanted to, not when they said it should. That's how it is in
Nature.
The young queen moved slower now. She found it difficult, leaping off
the cat tree to greet her master. What had changed? Wasn't she the
same as she had always been? Somehow, she knew she wasn't the same.
Even without a mirror, she sensed it. But, then, who said mirrors are
always made of glass?
She was restless that night.
As the hours went by, a force inside her built in its power. Rolling,
pushing, bubbling its way up from the primitive depths of her being,
it took over her legs, her belly and burst forth in wave after wave of
mindless, wet fury.
Then, just as it had begun, it came to rest. Lying there, she breathed
deeply, gazing at the tiny kittens by her side, knowing her life had
changed in a way she could not fully understand. Into the night, she
studied these reflections of herself, of her mother, of her
grandmothers . . . into the mirror of the night, they went . . . and
she was no longer alone.
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Author/Artist RON HEVENER specializes in animals and the romantic,
adventurous people who love them. Figurines, paintings, and stories by
Ron Hevener are collected by animal lovers everywhere. Visitors to
Hevener's studio can see the dogs, horses and wildlife that inspire
novels like Fate of the Stallion, The Blue Ribbon and High Stakes.
"Your life is a movie, and you write the script," he says. "On With
The Show!" -- www.RonHevener.com
Submitted by Ron Hevener's Publicist
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