Despite our reputation for being aloof, we cats do have our “silly moments.”
This is not to be confused with being dressed up in silly costumes. But we do like a good game. Mind you, there’d be hell to pay here if we started chasing cars! But we have a tennis ball that affords a good work-out. And if you kick it hard enough you can make it ricochet off the skirting board…strike the right angle and you can send it whizzing all the way up the hall and into their bedroom. I hope they never get carpets here!
We don’t fancy the idea of swimming, but we know of several cats who do like a dip. Dinah knows a cat in Finland who used to spend the summer with his people at a cabin by a lake and every morning, he would trot along the jetty, jump into the lake and swim back to the shore. Tourists would come to take his photo.(Of course, we can all swim, but choose not to.)
But Dinah’s friend sent us this link…http://www.wimp.com/moredog/ Way to go,Cat!
Me? I’ve been helping them load the rubbish trailer so I think I’ll have a snooze now…Dinah is busy with *my* camera, trying to take pictures of a thing she thinks might be this thing http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metura_elongatus 
We hope you all had a good time at Christmas, with good things to eat and none of this nonsense
A small amusement to complement the mince pies.
Best read in an upper-crust English accent!
* THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS *
My dearest Rodders…what an original choice…a partridge in a pear tree! How absolutely nouveau! I have set the tree in a half wine barrel (the one you emptied last Christmas!) and I must say, the little partridge looks quite at home there. Funny, really, I always thought they lived on the moors, or somewhere. Like grouse. Oh, well…
Thank you, my love.
Your very own Angela.
Nigel, darling! How sweet of you to send me these adorable doves. I adore them. And I adore you, you dear boy, to think of such an unusual gift.
All my love…Angie.
Dear Rupert. Thank you for your gift of three French hens. Baxter is making them a cage as they are rather aggressive towards my turtle doves. And they do tend to scratch around the African violets. But thank you, anyway.
Yours…Angela.
Dear Jonathon, your novel gift has just been delivered. Fortunately, Baxter has not put away his Black and Decker things, so he can enlarge the hens’ cage. I’m not really sure what calling birds ( colley birds?) do. But it’s very sweet of you to send them.
Fondly…A.
Bertie! You sweetheart! I love you to distraction! And even more for sending rings, not birds! Honestly, Bertie, a girl can stand just so much livestock. But one can NEVER have too many gold rings! Kisses!
Your Angel.
Dear George, it was kind of you to send all these geese. Just one tiny quibble, Georgie __ geese are very protective of their eggs and poor Mrs. Baxter was most horribly pecked. She threatened to give notice, which, of course, would mean losing Baxter, too. And I simply couldn’t do without him! All these cages and things to build… so please don’t be too cross, Georgie, if I ask the farm to take the geese.
Yours, Angela.
Dear Teddy. Good manners compel me to thank you for your gift of seven swans. But, really, Teddy, where do you suppose seven swans could swim in a Belgravia flat!!
Angela.
Dear Roger. I think you must have suffered quite a serious head bump in last week’s Llanelli match. Eight milkmaids may look rustically picturesque, but eight cows…really! I am returning them.
Angela.
Dear Simon. Fancy thinking of sending a chorus line! We are getting rather crowded here, but at least your dancing girls are not feathered. Well, their costumes are a little frou-frou, but they don’t cluck or chirp or cackle. Thank you.
As ever…Angela.
Dear Tim. So kind of you to send such a different gift. I was wondering where to put everyone, but nine of your lords have run off with Simon’s dancing girls and Elspeth’s looking for a new lover ( you did hear about Toby, I suppose?) so that problem is solved.
Yours, Angela.
Angus ___ they may be highly regarded at Balmoral, but in a small, CROWDED Belgravia flat, eleven pipers are too much! And too many! They will be on the 8.15 from Euston.
Crossly, Angela.
Dear Charles, I am returning your unasked-for and unwanted gift of twelve drummers. Kindly pay the taxi drivers when they arrive.
Angela Smyth-Ffortesque.
( I pinched that from The Secretary’s old blog. She said I could use it because she still owns it. Apparently it’s also in a book or magazine. )
geiger and sporran 