Francie's Playroom

Welcome, my good friends, to our realm's special spot for kittens. I am your cyber hostess, the Lady Francesca Ostara - known as Francie for the sake of simplicity. I shall be forever remembered for perfect timing (grandma was a musician - what would you expect?), having arrived exactly nine months after my parents, Leonora and Lemieux, were wed in CLAW's Rainbow Chapel.

Having inherited some of Mums's literary bent, I must tell you a story or two. This first is a folktale from southeast Asia, which bears the glorious title of "The Most Remarkable Cat."

Once there was a man who was trying to find a name for his cat, whom he loved very much. So proud was he of his kitty, and so convinced of its extraordinary qualities (but, of course!), that he decided to name it Sky.

One day, a friend said to him, "Permit me to point out that there is something stronger than the sky - the clouds, which hide it." The mandarin saw his point, and changed his remarkable cat's name to Cloud.

Shortly afterward, another mandarin, who was sharing a pot of Earl Grey with the cat's "master", questioned why said kitty bore the name of Cloud. "There is something much stronger than the clouds," he said, "and that is the wind that scatters them." And straightaway the cat's name was changed to Wind.

But not a week had passed before the mayor, whom the mandarin had invited home for a snack, commented that Wind was an inadequate name for a creature so remarkable. "The wind daily meets its master in the wall that it cannot penetrate!" So kitty was subjected to yet another name change, this time to Wall.

Not long after, a great scholar commented to the mandarin that the name of Wall remained inadequate for the exquisite cat. He remarked that even a wall can be conquered by the mouse who can nibble a hole through it. Is it any surprise that our friend was then re-named Mouse? (Oh, the indignity of that!)

Just then, the gardener's little son happened by. "Mouse!", exclaimed the child, "I know of something much stronger! The cat that eats him up!"

The mandarin then realised his folly, and gave the remarkable animal the most noble name he felt he could bestow - that of Cat.

The next story is sad but true (and admittedly hilarious!), and my Meowmie Leonora's original work.

Sad tale involving a bird, related to me by my sometime beau, Columbus;

Columbus is a quite tolerant sort, and has shared his space with birds, dogs , assorted cold blooded creatures, and six humans. The tale of Petie, the parakeet, is one that even one of us kitties would find rather unfortunate.

Petie really was able to say a few words, his favourite being "Hi, cutie, let's party!" He also was a bit fond of his glass, and liked a sip of Guiness now and then. At such times, his vocabulary would be reduced to "Cutie.....party.....cutie....party!"

Petie's head human, Rich, was immensely fond of him, but did have an immense distate for cleaning Petie's cage. (Believe me, feline friends, that is worse again than emptying our boxes!) Rich, who was proudly in possession of a new Electrolux vacuum cleaner, believed he'd found a solution. He decided to see if sticking the vacuum cleaner attachment into Petie's cage would effectively suck up the mess, eliminating the need for close human contact.

Regretfully, Rich tried this experiment...with Petie in the cage. Our bird friend ended his short life when he suffered heart attack while whooshing throught the vacuum cleaner's hose.

Even Columbus mourned him a bit, odd though that is for one of our own. One may only hope that Petie'd had a shot or two of Guiness withen his little self before he was swept away.

Meowmie Leonora also has pondered a d*g's point of view:

Jabbering, drooling, and snapping at naught,
Longing for approval when I do what I ought,
Inwardly, I indulge a secret wish ...
Though I slobber, and pant, and beg at my dish.
I long to be elegant, long for thoughts sublime,
Wish independence of thought could be mine.
I submit to the humans, indeed, I shall beg,
Indiscriminate in taste, I snuggle every leg.
Yet for all of ugly behaviour, at that,
Deep within my heart of hearts,
...I long to be a cat.

It is common knowledge amongst us kitties that we are so incredibly adorable that the world is our oyster. What may not be generally known is that we literary types constantly spin tails (excuse me, tales) in our imaginative minds, and that this can lead to some odd situations. I shall relate a few from my own experience.

When the fantasy plot beckoned, I became Morgan le Fey, lost in fairy enchantment. Yes, I must lead Arthur to the Grail! Ah, let me summon the Sight - I must look for direction in the lake ... so I peered into its swirling depths .

Had anyone flushed, I would have found myself exploring the topography of the sewer.

Another time, I was a fearless explorer, who a time machine had transported to the age of the dinosaurs. I entered a darkened cave (knocking over the set of Shakespeare which I wouldn't notice because Shakespeare was not to see the light of day for many millions of years after my journey.) I peered into the abundant foliage outside the cage, caught the reflection of the light on the ponds (which had something much like my treats on its surface), nobly looked upon the landscape for the first sight of apatosaurus and triceratops (I mix periods without qualm). Suddenly, I heard the thundering steps of the T-rex - and my ample body became as a streak of light flashing through the sky!

It was only my bratty "cousin", Mums's four-year-old niece, showing off her new Barbie shoes, but the general effect, on a slightly neurotic calico, was devastating.

Creativity reigns - but no one remembers to tell that it gets one in much trouble now and then!