I've never been a cat lover. I'd much sooner picture myself playing in the park with a golden retriever than pampering a spoiled and egocentric feline. But because this particular cat was a gift from him, I decided to give it a chance. Tiny furball that it was, chewing everybody's ankles in September; majestic tom cat that it is now, meowing for Friskies in demanding tenor tonalities and playing at my toes in the wee hours of the morning. Yes, I know Tori is a girl's name, but it was the cat's fault for tricking us all into believing that it's of the same gender with my adored singer! Besides, she'd laugh at the sexual ambiguity of the situation.
Since I tend to get a bit nostalgic in the evening, tonight it was about going through Tori's early pictures. The first was taken two or three days after its arrival. It still sleeps like a little hunchback, with the expression of a happy Chinese. The second is the moment when it received the spark of knowledge from the wise forefinger of man (woman=Vero). The third was taken under the mistletoe... no kissing involved. The photographer had just got a new lens, in case you were wondering at the superior quality of the picture. Last but not least, I managed to trick it with a red bow yesterday... it was so puzzled! No need to call the RSPCA, it wasn't molested!