I would give up my ability to pleasure, I mean clean myself with my tongue for this fine piece of feline meat. Anyone who tries to touch or hurt her will have to deal with me first.

She is my little amiga. I can't imagine ever meeting another kittie I get along with so well. She is brilliant, brave and very vocal. That is why I don't want her to get hurt or go away. I wish she would stop trying to escape and would cease the high risk activity.

Ms. La Malhechor is someone I instantly feel no sense of permanent deactivation from, but something is not right with these circuits, as I want to be next to her and take care of her. Illogical, but red perescope is exploring the outside world.

She Walks In Booties
By George Gordon, Lord Byron's Cat.
She walks in booties, like a sprite
With pixie feet and fairy toes;
Her paws on ice will ne'er alight
Nor feel the chill of frigid snows;
And all the rays of winter's light
Shine on her collar's satin bows.

And from her soft enchanted fur
Exudes the scent of sweet shampoo
And precious oils distilled from myrrh
That give her fur it's magic hue:
I long to hear her charming purr,
And share the music of her mew.

But as I watch her take the air,
My spellbound vision starts to fade;
I feel at once a dark despair;
My feline heart is sore dismay'd;
For not content to make her fair,
Her doting owners had her spay'd!