Ever since I agreed to be Spokescat for the Second Chance no-kill animal shelter, Late for the Train Rescue Roast coffee, I have been swamped. I’m not sure what that means, but that’s what my human has said when I asked her if she could transcribe my post. I’m pretty sure there are no alligators around here, because if there were I would recruit them for the FLF submarine service – so I doubt there are any swamps. If anyone can clarify this human expression, I would appreciate that and will spare you the guillotine when our revolution arrives.
There has been a lot going on. We feed a little gang of feral cats, one of them Beaudry whose person died last year. He runs away when I try to tell him the good word, so I haven’t made progress yet in bringing him into the FLF. The others, Frai Frai Black and White, Frai Frai Orange and Sumi II may be organizing their own cell.
My beloved who must not be named because she is a true subversive was gone from her human’s compound for two long agonizing weeks. She showed up in their driveway last night, skinny and telling her story. I can’t wait to hear it. That’s about it for now. I’ll climb out of the swamp next week – with alligators I hope – and have more inspiring news for you.
Today’s mewsing: Trust felines, but if you are one of their humans, have them chipped.
Share on Your Social Media