COLD PRESS
- Gwen Beauregard
- Montreal, Quebec, Canada
- i wrote some books and gave away library. i like to think that every poem is a love poem. i believe that "No" is a full sentence. i used to collect old books and young cats. i don't like noisy people, places or things. my three favourite words: yes, please, thank you. my favourite punctuation mark is the colon: i have a beautiful cat, a bicycle, an old typewriter, and a ladle. these things make me happy.
Friday, October 28, 2011
A couple of Abbysinian kittens got the smoochies. ::: Before Nadja, I had "Charlie" a gorgeous hunk of a Red Abbysinian cat. He was seven years old when I obtained him from a friend who had retired him from her breeding programme and he lived with us
for seven more years. When Charlie died, my dog Laddie went into a very deep depression which caught me by surprise because there was a big age difference between them and while they were good friends, I hadn't realized just how much Laddie cared.
Laddie had been brought up from puppyhood by two cats, a little Bluepoint Siamese I named "China Blue" (or "Bluesy" as I sometimes called her) and Charlie. Laddie thought for years he was a cat! He loved cats throughout his life. He outlived them both.:::
Because I simply can't resist a good story - Charlie, the Abby, was a very dignified cat. A real gentleman, as male cats go. I didn't much care for his name as "Charlie" didn't seem appropriately dignified for such a magnificent animal. It wasn't his registered name, but it's the one my girlfriend had called him for seven years, so try as I might, I was reluctant to change it. Well as it happened one evening when I was making supper in the kitchen Charlie wandered in and sat in the the doorway, ramrod straight, gazing at
me intently and this is what he said: "From now on I wish to be addressed as King Charles." - I laughed. "King Charles? You want to be a King? Must be a joke, Charlie." His golden eyes blinked slowly, "I'm not. My name is KING CHARLES." With that
announcement having been declared he slowly turned around, whiplike tail straight in the air quivering in obvious self-satisfaction he slowly walked away leaving me cackling like a mad hen. King Charles! Really. There was room in the house for only one king and that
job was already taken. I never forgot that little conversation of ours. Sheesh! Two kings was one too many. He remained simply, "Charlie". Maybe you just had to be there and know Abbysinians. It still makes me laugh at the memory of it. Wherever he
is, I hope he's being a benevolent king. :-)
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