Since the theme for today’s #FriFotos is time, I thought I’d take a moment to remind the two-leggers out there of their minute existence next to us felines, and of course of our timeless beauty.

I am cat. Hear me ROAR!

I mean you just need to look to Egypt and the Sphinx – Greek or Egyptian.

Be a good two-legger and cower beneath my beauty!

Now someone might want to chat with those birds about the wrath that is bound to befall them if they don’t get off this great beauty’s head. MERRROOOW!!

~ FFR

Wetting the Appetite

Clearly spring came early in Egypt.

Meorrow!  Would somebody bring me a bowl of milk already!

~ FFR

There will only ever be one Queen of the Wilds. I am feline. Hear me ROAR!

Meorrrow!  What would a Wild Themed #FriFotos be without a photographic reminder of who the true Queen of the Wilds is, straight from Egypt, the land where time began.  If we can be this relaxed in the face of crashing waves and whizzing motorbikes on the Seawall of Alexandria, not to mention a cacophony of two-leggers, it shows just how truly powerful we are.  Oh course, while this cat and most other feline femmes are Queens, I am a Goddess.

~ FFR

PS. Cacophony is the jarring, harsh discord of sound that seems to come from the mouths of two-leggers.  Kindly enlightening you on that, as I know two-leggers are a bit slower, and could use the broadening of their vocabulary from us supreme beings.

What inspired my return? Roamancing’s recent adventures in Egypt. Erica follows instructions much better than Emme, and being as she was in a land that revered the cat (or mau, as they called us), I thought she should snap a few shots to remind Emme that I am a creature to be worshiped.  She certainly needs something to remind her of her servitude to supreme beings such as ourselves, as she doesn’t understand that the time to wake up is when I declare so.

Thought this initial shot of Egyptian Deities might serve as a good reminder.

All bow to the great and powerful Mau!

Hmm, Erica’s obedient, but it would seem her focus may have strayed.

Focus Erica, Focus!

Honestly two-leggers!  They may make good house pets, but so hard to train. You have to keep on them at all times.

FFR

A Message from FFR

I thought it should read PEOPLE FOR ANIMALS (as that encompasses all of us) or better yet PEOPLE FOR ORGANISMS (as we wouldn’t want to exclude plants, fungi, parameciums …), but she said that if the OCCUPY folk were going to be omnipotent, then they may as well be schooled in who the true Goddesses really are (yes, just Goddesses as she tells me females rule the feline world).

Now all that aside, can someone please explain me the point of OCCUPYING the financial district on a weekend?  Seems to me they are missing their actual audience on the weekend and just irritating the neighbours and tourists.

Shhh!  Don’t tell Fuzzywiggle Furrypants Roo.  Wouldn’t want her disgusted at me on Christmas Day.

However, sometimes, during these dark but cozy hours, I am awoken by a deep kitty wisdom – a wisdom I know is as old as the world and as true – when the sky is still dark and the stairs are cold to the paw. Don’t ask me to explain it. As sophisticated as my cognitive powers are, I cannot be expected to articulate complex messages from the Beyond. It’s rather special that my little body can pick up supernatural currents like a purr-operated radio, even if the only message it communicates to me is a growly belly and a springy energy that tells me it is time to leave my boudoir (and for my two-legger to follow). I never argue with wisdom from the Beyond, especially if it thinks an early breakfast is of utmost importance.

A good sleeping companion makes all the difference (Photo by Jackie Fritsche)

Unfortunately my two-legger is rather skeptical of the Beyond and my interpretation of it. I would be offended by her reluctance to obey the power behind my growling belly if I didn’t know she was a dullard as far as the dark-sky currents of kitty wisdom are concerned. She just doesn’t know any better. And so I must patiently persuade her to emerge at a darker hour than she is wont, though she may grumble and groan sleepily. My persuasion strategy involves announcing my wakefulness repeatedly in a pitch she cannot ignore, and when all else fails, I nuzzle her. My nuzzles have a curious power over my two-legger, and they are very useful at times like these. After a few well-administered nuzzles we are invariably padding down the stairs towards my favourite cupboard.

As I enjoy my breakfast, I hear the clink of cups and things in the kitchen, which means my two-legger is joining me in my ritual! I pat myself on the back. I am training her well. Soon she will bound down the stairs with me for this divinely ordained ceremony. I am happy. I will nuzzle my two-legger for this.

I was enjoying my day’s first siesta on a warm sofa spot with my two-legger. She was employed in some unimportant task and nestled by my side, when the doorbell rang. I stirred in protest as my two-legger rose to attend to the intrusion. I thought I had trained her well enough to know that strangers are not welcome – rather they are FORBIDDEN – during nap time. But instead of my two-legger turning the hopeful at the door away in hushed tones as she should have, she issued an enormous whoop and welcome for the uninvited visitor (as if the doorbell hadn’t disturbed me enough).

Not Amused (Photo by Clint Gardner)

Before I had a moment to process that my very own two-legger had betrayed me by allowing a stranger into my sleepy boudoir, I was unceremoniously jerked into an unknown lap. All this without so much as a “by-your-leave”. But that was not the end of it – soon after I was betrayed and woken, I proceeded to suffer the indignities of rough and inexperienced petting, the details of which I cannot bear to describe. The miscreant guest smelled like canine and mauled like the worst possible two-legger a cat might cross paths with at the best of times – and this, as you may have gathered, was not the best of times.

I did what any such assaulted feline would do: I inserted the claws as far as possible into the offender’s lap, allowing myself to escape during his yelping. As I seethed in my secret hiding place (upstairs) I thought about all the things I should have, could have said to him in the heat of the moment to properly repay him for his behaviour. As I’m sure you have experienced, I found myself full of appropriately livid responses after the opportunity had passed.

I write this in warning to that canine-smelling creature that dared disturb my slumber, and others like him, if such exist. I expect villains like him travel in packs and dwell in some shadowy hideout, far away from the long arm of the law. If ever he or his kind dare(s) to casually “drop by” as happened today, I will be ready to deliver justice, on behalf of all rudely-awakened felines. I assure you that next time, I will be prepared to punish the fellow mercilessly, as is his due. Until then, I wait and prowl.

~FFR

This week’s word:  Mom

Mom: This is not a word that we felines use, except with the feline that conceived us, washed us and fed us, in those first few days of life.  My two-legger refers to herself as my Mom, which leads me to believe that Moms are the creatures that feed us and respond to our every whim.  I refer to my two-legger as my servant, so maybe Moms are that, only I get a feeling that there is something more. Really hate to admit it, for fear that it will get my two-legger to big for her bridges, but I do believe that something more is Love.

‘My two-legger is somewhat of an exceptional Mom, as she acts as a wonderful heating blanket every night (only someone should really tell her that to be a blanket, she shouldn’t move), she cuts me up the succulent green little tree-like things, and she’s always there for a hug when I need one.’

My 'Mom' in all of cuddliness. Someone just needs to tell the silly two-legger next to her to move on. Those are my hugs.

~FFR

Cross-posted from hummingbird604

This week’s word:  Blogathon

Blogathon: A day that confirms the fact that two-leggers are far below the feline on the evolutionary ladder and really not all that bright.For some reason, these two-leggers spend an entire sunny summer Saturday blogging. One new post every half hour.

‘My two-legger often makes me meow in aspiration, but at least she was not as silly as Raul to join a blogathon and spend a sunny writing a new post every half hour. There is hope for her yet. Now a sleepathon with a cat nap in a new sunny spot every half hour I can totally understand. Also totally get a birdathon, where every half hour we swat a new bird out of the air, especially the little ones that humm incessantly.’

Enjoying myself today on a sleepathon, whilst the insane two-leggers run frazzled on their blogathon.

~FFR