Which reminds me of another cat in my neighbourhood. I call it the Cheshire Cat because it made me think of the cat in Alice in Wonderland. I used to see it every morning on my way to work. It would be sitting up on the gatepost too, looking down at us harried school- or office-bound mortals, with the haughtiest expression a cat could have. I used to laugh and thought it was the most amusing thing. Now I don't see the cat so often anymore. Here it is looking sulky (or maybe suspiciously at me) on a Saturday morning:
Back to my next-door neighbours' cats. Another one is called Mickey. I've only seen Mickey once because apparently she's the princess of the house and rarely, if ever, deems the outside un-air-conditioned world worthy of her presence. And obviously has never come close to crossing the wall over to our place.Then there's Tiger. Who's always prancing everywhere and living up to his name by biting and scratching people who get too near him when he's in a pissed-off mood.
Here's Crouching Tiger...
Regal-looking Tiger walking to a pail probably to steal a sip or two of mop water...
Thirsty Tiger drinking from another unlikely water receptacle...
Playful Tiger rolling around on the floor...
And Tiger and Dum Dum sharing the shade under the table on a hot Sunday afternoon:
Up until early this year, we had another daily feline visitor. It was called Khushi, lived in the Kew Gates apartments behind us, and was owned by someone named Pratts. Khushi's mortal enemy was Tiger and one of their favourite pastimes was to sit around starring and snarling at each other for extended periods of time until they got bored/hungry and went home for their meals. Then one day we stopped seeing Khushi. Took us a while to realise Pratts had probably re-located taking the Khushi along with him/her. Pity. I thought Khushi was the adorablest of all the cats around:
Hope it'll come back and visit some day.
