Dear two-legged friends,
Hanzō is (voluntarily) cleaning the litter box for me at the moment, so I will tell you a little bit more about my weekend. I'd been hoping for a second date with the neighbor's cat for almost all of last week until it finally seemed to become reality on Sunday. We'd met once before when Hanzō and I managed to escape from the apartment, as our mommy was coming home from work. The neighbor was just about to leave her apartment when I spotted her girl cat graciously hiding behind her owner's legs. I was in love, perhaps because I had never seen a cat that wasn't grey (oh, excuse me, blue) before. While my shy little brother was sniffing on the door mat, I quickly, and in a very determined fashion, tried to get closer to her, smell her and perhaps exchange a few meows with her.
However, I sadly never made it there. After taking her coat off and putting her bags on the floor, mommy grabbed me and picked me up. At first I didn't fully realize what was happening to me because I was blinded by love. I had already been dreaming about getting closer and staring into the cat's eyes when I realized the neighbor was petting me. Nooooo. Then mommy said "come on, let's go home" and I found myself sitting in front of the door, staring at the door handle and meowing pitifully. Mommy had no mercy, and told me: "oh come on, Hattori, you are barely four months old." After this traumatic experience, I was so glad to get a second chance.
On Sunday, when our four legged granny and great-granny were leaving after an afternoon at the St. Charles' Christmas Market and a few minutes at the apartment to admire how cute we are, I saw my chance, as I'd heard the neighbor unlock her door. Now or never, I told myself, and entered the neighbor's apartment as fast as I could. Already thinking about the lovely girl cat, I almost got a heart attack when I was confronted with a boy cat much bigger than me blocking my way. He was parked next to the door and I got so scared I mohawked up. His facial expression only said: "what are you doing here little bastard?" Standing sideways with all my hair standing on end, I hissed: "I am here to see the girl." His facial expression didn't change, and I didn't move. Suddenly, I was picked up by the neighbor, who tried to hand me over to daddy. I was so upset that I scratched both of them and sprinted back to safety. In the apartment, I saw my brother Hanzō, and, just in case it was the other mean boy cat in disguise, I mohawked up again in order to hide that I was, at that moment, scared of the whole world. A bit later, I was fed, and calmed down. But what's the morale of the story? I'm done with girl cats for now :)
Thanks for reading!
Love,
Hattori
Hanzō is (voluntarily) cleaning the litter box for me at the moment, so I will tell you a little bit more about my weekend. I'd been hoping for a second date with the neighbor's cat for almost all of last week until it finally seemed to become reality on Sunday. We'd met once before when Hanzō and I managed to escape from the apartment, as our mommy was coming home from work. The neighbor was just about to leave her apartment when I spotted her girl cat graciously hiding behind her owner's legs. I was in love, perhaps because I had never seen a cat that wasn't grey (oh, excuse me, blue) before. While my shy little brother was sniffing on the door mat, I quickly, and in a very determined fashion, tried to get closer to her, smell her and perhaps exchange a few meows with her.
However, I sadly never made it there. After taking her coat off and putting her bags on the floor, mommy grabbed me and picked me up. At first I didn't fully realize what was happening to me because I was blinded by love. I had already been dreaming about getting closer and staring into the cat's eyes when I realized the neighbor was petting me. Nooooo. Then mommy said "come on, let's go home" and I found myself sitting in front of the door, staring at the door handle and meowing pitifully. Mommy had no mercy, and told me: "oh come on, Hattori, you are barely four months old." After this traumatic experience, I was so glad to get a second chance.
On Sunday, when our four legged granny and great-granny were leaving after an afternoon at the St. Charles' Christmas Market and a few minutes at the apartment to admire how cute we are, I saw my chance, as I'd heard the neighbor unlock her door. Now or never, I told myself, and entered the neighbor's apartment as fast as I could. Already thinking about the lovely girl cat, I almost got a heart attack when I was confronted with a boy cat much bigger than me blocking my way. He was parked next to the door and I got so scared I mohawked up. His facial expression only said: "what are you doing here little bastard?" Standing sideways with all my hair standing on end, I hissed: "I am here to see the girl." His facial expression didn't change, and I didn't move. Suddenly, I was picked up by the neighbor, who tried to hand me over to daddy. I was so upset that I scratched both of them and sprinted back to safety. In the apartment, I saw my brother Hanzō, and, just in case it was the other mean boy cat in disguise, I mohawked up again in order to hide that I was, at that moment, scared of the whole world. A bit later, I was fed, and calmed down. But what's the morale of the story? I'm done with girl cats for now :)
Thanks for reading!
Love,
Hattori
