Tuesday 22 September 2015


I woke up from a nap, this morning, in hunting mode.

I walked into the main room, and - at the far end - saw what looked like a fly.

I crouched low and inched towards it, my catty senses tuned in.

I stared at it, to work out the best angle to approach it from.

My whiskers switched.

My tail swished.

The fly didn't move.

I slowly crept towards it, coming from its right.

I stared, and stared, and stared.

I started to swish my tail quicker.

I got closer.

I did a little pre-pounce bum wiggle, and...


...but it didn't even try to fly off.

I stop clawing and bunny kicking... and realised that it was a raisin that had been left on the floor, not a fly.

I bit it anyway.

Then I went and had another nap.

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