What a day we're having! Without drawing too much ire and resentment from some of my fellow Quarter felines - I'm looking at you Tabitha Fur-stein, you prowling molly of Clinton St. - I am going to allow myself the indulgence of a momentary boast. As all cats know, there are few better things in this world than the comforts of a small snug cardboard box in which to curl into a furry mess and nap like its midmorning...or early afternoon...or late afternoon...or early evening...or late evening...or nighttime. It is a pleasure not unlike sipping warm milk only to be wonderfully surprised with a lively mouse at the bottom with which to paw and play. Now, when such a box has a pile of newspapers in it to make into a bed? Warmth fills my body just thinking about it. And indeed, I don't have to just think about it as today such a box has materialized and been filled with newspapers for me to sleep on so many times, so well.
What was in the box you ask? Nothing less than thirty seven tomes of The World's Greatest Classics published by Grolier's. Now I can purr myself into cat dream world in the full armor of the warriors of the Iliad or the moral grace of Anna Karenina or amongst the detailed goings on of Dickens' London in Great Expectations or with access to the higher plains of Emerson's Trans-cat-dentalism. What sweet purrfect bliss (puns are generally the foray of Tabitha Fur-stein and I give her full credit for this particular gem).
What was in the box you ask? Nothing less than thirty seven tomes of The World's Greatest Classics published by Grolier's. Now I can purr myself into cat dream world in the full armor of the warriors of the Iliad or the moral grace of Anna Karenina or amongst the detailed goings on of Dickens' London in Great Expectations or with access to the higher plains of Emerson's Trans-cat-dentalism. What sweet purrfect bliss (puns are generally the foray of Tabitha Fur-stein and I give her full credit for this particular gem).
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