The serious and sometimes satirical reflections of a priest, poet, and pilgrim —
who knowing he has not obtained the goal, presses on in a Godward direction.
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8 comments:
I bet that she comes running at the sound her food being opened.
So, the dinner bell is a can opener?
She is WONDERING when the dinner bell will toll? I thought as the regal one in the household she would TELL you when it's time for that bowl to be filled.
My neighbor's cat will not consider uncooked meat of any kind, so kindly open the can and serve me without delay.
Dogs have masters. It should be obvious from the photo you posted: cats have staff.
My cat currently resides in two places: in an urn on my mantle, and in a corner of my heart. I will replace her in due time.
This is too easy:
Augusta, ask not for whom the dinner bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
CP
You can probably never replace her Pf P, but you will probably elect a new companion one day. I dare say that the corner of your heart shall always remain occupied.
sorry -- allergies have led me to an hypoallengenic poodle -- but she thinks she is the absolute best of all cats and all dogs.
And -- though I almost stopped breathing, we had a British Blue who read minds and healed hearts. The wonderful Meer.
And you might remind Augusta that Julian's familiar words were eschatological -- or should I say ex-cat-o-logical?
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