I found this on a card as I was putting the Christmas things away
(better late than never) . . .
 
"All I need to know about Christmas I learned from my cat...

• Shop 'til it's time for a nap.
  
• Curiosity never killed anyting and you get to see what's inside all of the stockings.
  
• It's okay to show them a little affection once a year.
  
• If a creature is stirring, it's probably a mouse.
  
• You can be naughty all year, but you better be good around Christmas.
  
• If it has a bell or ribbon on it, it's okay to open it.
  
• All Christmas ornaments are toys for you.
  
• Climb your way to the top of the tree...that's where the angel is.
  
• Always shop from a cat-along (groan).
  
• He sees you when you're sleeping, so it's okay to take a lot of naps.
  
• Whenever you hear a bell, you'll know there's another Christmas toy with your name on it.

and last but not least . . .

• A nip of warm milk is pleasant on Christmas eve, but a hot toddy with catnip is nicer."

Have you kissed your cat today?
sparrow
 

everything counts... ♥

Many times.
 
Jude

Love is the only way

you made me chuckle Sparrow now that's a rare thing .I do think
 
some cats have a lovely life but they give so much happiness to many
 
bless them.
 
Sandraxxxx
 

The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love~and be loved in return♥♥  


 

"If we treated everyone we meet with the same affection we bestow upon our favourite cat, they, too, would purr."
 
From "10 spiritual lessons you can learn from your cat."

Love is the only way

I am purring now Jude thank you lots...
 
Sandraxx

The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love~and be loved in return♥♥  


 

me too . . .
Thank you both
with love . . .
sparrow

everything counts... ♥

 How did Tabby Cats get their 'M'?



All tabbies have an 'M' marking on their forehead, and on some this mark is very distinct. The 'M' is often referred to as 'the mark of the true tabby'.
There are several amusing legends about how tabby cats got their 'M'.
The most popular of these legends tells us that when the baby Jesus was lying in the manger he started to shiver with the cold. Mary covered the baby with blankets but still he kept shivering. Mary then ask all the animals to move closer to the manger so that their body heat would warm Jesus.
The animals stood as close to the manger as they could but the baby Jesus remained cold and shivering. After a time a small cat with tabby markings jumped into the manger and snuggled next to Jesus. Before long the baby had stopped shivering and was sound asleep, contented and warm.
In her gratitude to the tabby Mary made the mark of her own initial, upon the cat's forehead so that tabby cats will forever remind the world of how they saved Jesus from the cold.
A legend from the Islamic world recounts that Mohammed had a tabby called Muezza who once saved his masters life by slaying a snake that had crawled up Mohammed's sleeve. Later, when it was time to attend prayers the cat had fallen asleep upon the sleeve, so to avoid disturbing Muezza, Mohammed cut the sleeve from his garment. From that day on all tabby cats were born with the 'M' marking on their forehead to remind all that see them that Mohammed loved cats, and that cats should always be respected.
from www.best-cat-art.com
sparrow

everything counts... ♥

Thank you, Sparrow, for this cat lore!
 
There is not much else so soothing as a purring cat on the lap!
On this frigid day we should perhaps borrow one from my neighbor!
 
Love,
Edda

Peace and joy!

Dear Edda . . .
It sounds like a good idea . . . maybe King Arthur would like to visit you.
I feel absolutely decadent with four of the little lovelies purring all about me!
with love . . .
sparrow

everything counts... ♥

"Refined and delicate natures understand the cat Women, poets and artists hold it in great esteem, for they recognise the exquisite delicacy of its nervous system; indeed, only coarse natures fail to discern the natural distinction of the cat."
Les Chats, Champfleury.
 
"The cat is the animal to whom the creator gave the biggest eye, the softest fur, the most supremely delicate nostrils, a mobile ear, an unrivalled paw and a curved claw borrowed from the rose tree......"
 
Colette

Love is the only way

(I gotta tell ya, the posts at this forum are so sensitive and thoughtful. I love reading what you all have written above me. Thanks for your caring and compassion in ALL the topics.)
 
There is nothing quite like the purr of a favorite cat when you touch it. I have two cats and they keep me amused and happy all the time when I am interacting with them. I can forget any problem I am wrestling with at least for a minute or two. Here is a pic of the two cats with a caption I made for another website some of you may know of. My persian has an eye condition  where they are always weeping, but it doesnt seem to bother her too much.



Cats are very special creatures indeed.

~KareBear

integrity is shown when no one is looking

Dear Karen,
Are those two beautiful cats yours? I just love the colour of the Persian and I've always adored cats with black faces and white whiskers.
 
Jude

Love is the only way

I found this while rummaging around in my files . . .
ps. I know you've already about Mohammed's robe, but it is part of the article so I left it in.
 
I’ve Got The Cat
By Kelly Musselman
 
Have you heard the story about Mohammed’s robe and his cat? It goes something like this: One day Mohammed went to his chamber to prepare for a royal function. His servants had drawn his bath and laid out his most beautiful and most costly robe on his bed. Mohammed’s cat found the robe attractive as well, and Mohammed discovered his slumbering friend sprawled across one sleeve. Rather than disturb his beloved feline, Mohammed took scissors and carefully snipped around the cat’s body. When Mohammed entered the banquet hall, he was greeted with oohs and aahs. A fashion trend was launched that evening, thanks to a lazy cat and his indulgent human.
For some, sacrificing a wardrobe for a snoozing cat doesn’t make sense. “Why not just move the cat?” they ask. Why not, indeed. There is considerable wisdom in the adage “let sleeping cats lie.”
Of the many advantages of feline cohabitation, one in particular is compelling. No, I’m not talking about the love and affection cats give us, or how petting a cat can lower our blood pressure (although these are very good reasons). I’m referring to how cats help out around the house, and how they can actually reduce the amount of work we have do. In my home, our cats are equivalent of Mohammed’s robe, and, figuratively speaking, my husband and I compete on a daily basis for the right to wear it.
For instance, when we’re both snug in bed reading and the dog insists he must go outside—now, or else—rises to the occasion?
“You let him out,” says my husband.
“It’s your turn,” I reply. “I let him out last night.”
“Ahhh, but I’ve got the cat,” he says serenely, stroking the mass of purring fur on his chest.
Point taken. The advantage is always with whomever has the cat. He knows and I know that neither of us is willing to disturb the cat, so I get up to let the dog out, and look for other kitties. If at least two will stay on my side of the bed, I’ll have majority rule when the dog wants to be let in.
This strategy also works nicely for midnight drinks of water, for turning off the still0burning kitchen light, and for effective channel-changing control during TV viewing.
“Honey, can you get me the remote control?” my mate asks sweetly.
“It’s right there on the table next to you,” I point out. “Can’t you reach over and get it?”
“Well, I would, but the cat’s in a really comfortable position right now and if I move my arm…”
I sigh and hand him the TV remote.
(Who’s got the cat is also extremely effective for determining who gets the snacks and who answers the telephone.)
“The cat’s on it” is a subtle, yet powerful variation of “I’ve got the cat.”
“Honey, haven’t I asked you a million times to hang up your coat?” I ask.
With no trace of guilt, guile or remorse he replies, “I would have earlier, but the cat was on it.”
Not to be outdone, I use this one myself.
“Dear, didn’t you say you were going to wash some shirts today,” he politely inquires.
“Oh, I’m sorry, but one of the cats decided to take a snooze in the laundry basket and she looked so comfortable…”
This is also an excellent way to avoid folding clothes and making beds.
Example: “Can you believe that three of the cats fell asleep on the bed today before I could make it?” He has to believe it—they’re still there.
Of course hubby retaliates with a pet peeve of mine, newspapers strewn across the living room floor on Sunday afternoon.
“Can’t you put these in the rack when you’re done?”
“I couldn’t, the cat…”
Was ON them, I know.
“Didn’t I ask you to take out that box (or put that bag away) an hour ago?”
No don’t tell me. The cat was IN it.
Of course, there may be times when having the cat, either on or in, isn’t in one’s best interest. Such as when stretching out on the couch after a long day and relaxing isn’t possible. Why? Because the cat’s on it.
Or how how never having dinner in the same chair you sat in the night before isn’t feasible because the cat’s in it. Or haw finishing the magazine story continued on the back page would be enjoyable except for the furry body draped over it.
Or how snuggling in you significant other’s lap would be quite pleasant, but someone already beat you to it. At times like these, there are limits to even Mohammed’s tolerance. And when it comes to laps, I get first dibs. Scram!
 
sparrow 
 

everything counts... ♥

“Dear, didn’t you say you were going to wash some shirts today,” he politely inquires.
“Oh, I’m sorry, but one of the cats decided to take a snooze in the laundry basket and she looked so comfortable…”
 
Thank you Sparrow the more I read the more I love puddy cats for many reasons.
 

The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love~and be loved in return♥♥  


 

What a darling picture Sandra!
 
THE CAT
Poem — Ryan Alexander
In April 2004, twenty-eight-year-old Ryan Alexander deployed to Iraq with the U.S. Army's Stryker Brigade Combat Team. (Alexander had served in the U.S. Marine Corps but was honorably discharged in 2001. When Operation Iraqi Freedom began, he volunteered to work with the SBCT as a civilian. The specifics of his job cannot be disclosed.) Alexander wrote the following poem about a cat he encountered soon after he arrived in Mosul.
 
She came to me skittish, wild.
The way you're meant to be,
surrounded by cruelty.
I did not blame her.
I would do the same.
A pregnant cat, a happy distraction;
some sort of normal thing.
Calico and innocent.
The kittens in her belly said feed me.
And I did.
She crept with careful eye,
Body held low to the dirt,
Snagged a bite,
And carried it just far enough away.
She liked the MREs,
the beef stew, the chicken breast, the barbeque pork,
but she did not like canned sardines.
I do not blame her.
I would do the same.
She came around again and again
finally deciding that I was no threat,
that this big man wasn't so bad.
I was afraid to touch her as the docs warned us.
Iraqi animals were carriers of flesh-eating disease.
I donned a plastic glove and was the first to pet
this wild creature who may be
the one true heart and mind that America
had won over.
After a while I forgot the glove and enjoyed
the tactile softness of short fur,
flesh-eating bacteria be damned.
Her belly swelled for weeks
and she disappeared for some days
until her kittens were safely birthed
in the shallow of a rusted desk
in the ruins that lined the road behind us.
She came around again slim
with afterbirth still matted to her hind legs.
She would return, but not quite as often.
She came to eat and for attention,
but there was nursing to be done.
One day she crept up with a kitten in her mouth.
She dropped it at my foot and stared up at me;
she expected something, but there was nothing I could do.
The young black and white kitten was dead,
its eyes not yet opened.
It looked like some shriveled old wise thing,
completely still, mouth puckered,
small body curled and limp.
She let me take the baby without a fight.
She knew, but seemed unaffected.
She had fetched me a gift,
a lesson,
among the worried nights,
shot nerves from poorly aimed mortar rounds:
Everything dies.
The evil, the innocent,
her baby and
me.
I thought I should say a prayer and bury
this poor little thing,
but I did for it what will be done for me.
I laid it in the burn can amongst the ash
and said I'm sorry.
 
 

everything counts... ♥

I am very grateful for my cats and have been especially while having 2 days in bed with a flu type virus. They have kept me company, in fact have been the only company I have had. Faithful little friends.
 
Jude

Love is the only way

Thank you, Sparrow, for sharing this touching story with us!
 
Jude, I do hope you'll get over the flu quickly! I am sure the cats are the best medicine for you!
 
Love,
Edda

Peace and joy!

I am so glad to hear that you are feeling better dear Jude,
but sorry you had no one to mother you back to health.
When we are sick I think, we all have a little child inside us that would like to be mothered.
Welcome back to the land of the living
with much love . . .
sparrow
 

everything counts... ♥

Dear Jude,
I too am glad you are feeling better!
Here is some "medicine" for you,just in case!!!

~with regards to all~
Buba,Goran's mom

Hello dear Edda, Sparrow and Buba. Thank you for your good wishes, and for your mothering in your various ways.
 
Love, Jude

Love is the only way