In Gentlemen's Cat Appreciation Society, they sip milk out of fine wine glasses, bat around yarn balls, and make eye contact with you as they knock your stuff off the table.
“Fine cat.” “Very fine example.” “A tabby, I believe.” “Yes, Ernest, definitely a tabby.” “Good whiskers.” “Note the excellent tail.” “Ulysses, what of this cat’s temperament?” “A noble creature, calm and friendly.” “Unless you’re a mouse.” “Oh yes, she’s on the mice faster than fast.” “Excellent.”
I have hand tremors, joint & tendon issues, sometimes parts of my body seize up, and I have poor fine fine motor skills (all caused by disabilities) and yet this time it was the fault of typing before I wiped the sleep from my eyes 😅
It makes me so happy that the cat they are appreciating looks so normal. Not some poor thing inbred to ill health but just a cat they found on the street
It's an interesting photo. The seated man on the right is notably more prosperous looking than the other three, and the cup in the middle is positioned like it might be an award. Perhaps Moggy is a champion ratter?
“My dearest Eunice,
The fellows of the society, to whom I believe you are well acquainted, send their kindest regards. I have enclosed a daguerreotype of our last meeting with a felicitous feline named Nabob, the ratter of a local alderman.”
These are the five members of the Society for the Study of Reincarnation, formed more than a decade prior. Voting became difficult, often resulting in a 2-2 split, after Bratton's untimely carriage accident, until he returned late one evening at the front door demanding roast beef and claret.
I so wish that kitty was a Maine Coon with a majestic ruff.
Then it would have been a purrfect pic of the winner of the chin and neck adornment competition, surrounded by the runners-up.
That’s Seamus O’kitty in the middle. Notorious ringleader of the catnip smuggling gang, the Pspsps’s. Those are his guards surrounding him. This picture was taken 1 week before he lost his 4th life in the Boston Yarn Factory fire. He was always a kitten at heart.
Not sure you’ve interpreted this correctly. In particular, Big Boy in the back is looking at Fluffy in the same way we look at lobsters before we next see them with drawn butter and a lemon wedge
at least one of these men was considered racist even in his own time, but at least he knew how to appreciate a cat (we think it's the one in the top right)
The first five members of the scruffy whiskers guild. The 1st rule of the club was never talk about the club.
They were so good at their commitment to secrecy that the guild never added any other members.
They had a board on the floor with pictures of every possible kind of facial hair and wherever the cat touched first on each of their turns, that's what they had to get.
I was chatting with my doctor about cats this week and she said she went on a date with a guy once who didn't like cats because they're "too independent". She never saw him again but is happily married to the guy she dated later who had two spoiled cats.
“The Officers of the Gentlemen’s Cat Appreciation Society pose with this year’s trophy winner, Sir Tiddles of Springfield. A champagne brunch of sweetbeads and eggs was later enjoyed by all.”
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"different" so badly?
Don't tell me you can't remember their smash ditty "Meet Me Down at Ye Olde Scratching Post"?
I'm so disappointed right now.
Spiritualist Medium.
The fellows of the society, to whom I believe you are well acquainted, send their kindest regards. I have enclosed a daguerreotype of our last meeting with a felicitous feline named Nabob, the ratter of a local alderman.”
And a cat...
Behind him: Joe Lennon, CFO. [John Lennon's great-great grandad].
Standing left: Apostle Wrinkle. Brother of chairman
Left seated: Unknown, but he lost his fob in a poker game.
Cat later reincarnated as my silver tabby, Yanto.
Then it would have been a purrfect pic of the winner of the chin and neck adornment competition, surrounded by the runners-up.
They were so good at their commitment to secrecy that the guild never added any other members.
I'd happily accompany any of these men to a nice promenade
They are all gingers, they get that from Pa’s side.