Sampson is a proud cat. Consider the evidence: a row of scratch marks on the baseboard behind the living room sofa, one for each rodent victim. And there is the thing he has with mirrors. I am amused by Sampson's attraction to his reflection. He thinks he's got a playmate. Good company for a lonely cat. But the cat recognizes his image. He is not interested in play. Preening and flexing and posing are his games.
He fancies himself a tiger, maybe because of his orange and black stripes, but probably some genetic code presents mere tendencies as a false identity. So he acts a tiger's part, particularly while on the hunt. Sometimes his pursuit lasts for long minutes. Other times he finds success almost as soon as the hunt begins. Sampson prefers the long stalk. Winning isn't the issue--he almost always wins--the chase is his passion.
Tomorrow: Sampson the Cat (cont.)
Hollis' funny names:
Dedmond Walkin is doomed
Candy Liver is dependable
No comments:
Post a Comment