The title of this blog comes from a Gaelic expression -"putting on the poor mouth"-which means to exaggerate the direness of one's situation in order to gain time or favour from creditors.
Born Bonaparte O'Coonassa in Corkadoragha where the the torrential rains are more torrential, the squalor more squalid, the hopelessness more utterly hopeless than they are anywhere else. Actually I'm from Romford which is probably worse...
11 comments:
Aw, bless her. I'd love to give that chin a little scritch!
What beautiful eyes!
What a handsome face! Bebe clearly knows her own worth.
Thanks. She is a real beauty and a gentle little lady. It's hard sometimes to remember that she was a feral cat until adulthood
During these cold, dark holiday’s, I miss my parent’s cats, and this picture only brings up that remorse. Thanks a lot Jams! :)
Aww sorry ROland. I would find missing something without a cat.
Bebe looks awfully serious, Jams, as if she waiting for you to pull something.
Sadly it was my finger, Bryan!
That look is a "Yeah. Right. Sure. Whatever you say Master Jams" kind of look!
What a bootiful pawtrait!
Indeed Ewbl. She has no respect for me and never does anything I tell her to do.....
Thanks Victor, she is a beautiful little cat
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