The Cat Who Writes™

I am a cat. I write.

I have been given a curfew and I am not happy

I have been given a curfew

When the veterinarian cleaned my wound, she pointed out to Mrs. Hodges the two holes at the top of my head. I did not want to tell Mrs. Hodges, my typist, I had been in a fight. She has always told me to walk away from a fight; turn the other cheek. But sometimes you have to let the other cat know you mean business.

I could smell the other cat. He is an orange cat. He lives in the bushes in the back of my house. He goes by the name Orange.

I was out marking my territory. I back up to the tree line and spray the bottom of the bushes. This is my property; I am responsible to mark the property line for the Hodges and to catch any mice that cross the line.

Orange, bit my head. You should see what he looks like.

I use to go outside whenever I wanted to. If I sat in front of the door my staff opened the door for me. Now there is a sign on the door.

DO NOT LET POOH OUT

If only I had thumbs.

If only I had thumbs

 

 

About Harper

I was adopted from The Humane Society. I was separated from my twin brother and don't know where he is.

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This is an animal blog. Written by animals. Humans are only necessary to type for us. We don’t have thumbs.

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