"Swearing great hope, the exiled risk across the globe,
and dream of riches and revenge." -- Spes Fallax -- Lucius Annaeus Seneca or pseudo-Seneca, trans Doyle --
Cats are such strange creatures, at least ours are. aloof one minute and the next desperate for our company and affection. The dog is transparent, but the cats are inconsistent. Is that what endears me to them, like your Pink Floyd?
Oh, this is a sweet poem. I once had a homeless cat decide to live with me when I lived behind a bookstore. When I moved several miles away, I took him with me. But he declined to move, and kept going back to the bookstore till the proprietor took him in to be the bookstore cat. Cats know what they want:)
Pink Floyd's story (in the extended edition) can be found at Living in Exile, under 'The Private Face'
Ginger cats are my favourites. My two are called the Marmalade Boys.
a home on the edge of a homehe sounds sweet
Gorgeous poem, a real triumph.
I'm a bit fond of friendly stray cats.
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