This is Sapphire. The cat who loved us. He adopted us and has become part of our family. He is one of our three cats–all rescue animals of some sort.
I wish I knew his back story. Where he came from and who he loved before us. What happened to his tail? How old is he?
Saph is like a supporting character from a great drama, you always wonder how he got here. And you wish the screenwriter or director could tell you more.
I think he was a guru in a former life. How else could he do cat yoga on a Persian-style rug?
Today I snapped a few photos of my pets. I look at them and wonder what they would be saying if they could sass-mouth me First off I’m glad Ruby can’t talk. She could tell some good stories on me. [Although the pet with the most stories happens to be in kitty heaven, (God rest your feline soul, Sky).]
Ruby is back from a week in doggie utopia at the ranch.
"Please don't make me take a Christmas Bath!"
This morning I caught a glimpse of this and had to do a U-turn to capture it on camera. I tried to get it on my good camera, but the batteries were out, so trusty iPhone it was.
"Stupid neighbor dog ... I have no idea why she insist on chasing the squirrels."
I came around from the other entry on the north end of the room. [ignore lamp shades, I was changing the light bulbs in the chandelier.]
"Yeah -- I'm on the table. So? "
I tried to work with Pussums, getting her to pose.
"Not now, I'm trying to get my vitamin D for the day and the days are short. Seriously? You're killing me with the photos. You've got to be the picture-takingest cat mom ever.""I give up. Take my picture. But I'm not going to look you in the eye. You're getting the no-stare treatment."
The Arcadian Experience 