I forgot Arthur

I forgot Arthur.

Cat Arthur is a legendary leader of the cat gang who heads the defence of chez moi (and aprecious and Snotty), and I forgot him in The Rogues Gallery the other day. So he is not talking to me. (Not bothered. He talks rubbish mostly.)

When I used to sleep in the 'posh' end of the conservatory, he used to keep me awake with his midnight Shenanigans. He rules the conservatory and I must bow down to him and his great potness. Allegedly.

Oh Arthur standing guard against the shoe cupboard with great fortitude and all that - you are not afeared of the jumping dog I see in the glass and with your trusty sword hat tie Excalibur your command of the army of Wellingtons and the cagoules is unmatched. Your knowledge of the Holy Grail of endless supplies of cat food greater than any living creature, piece of ceramic other pot cat anywhere in the world...

How could I have forgotten you?

Well actually, I've got stuff on my mind! Food. Walks. Food. Training. Master Chef. Sheep. Food. Frisbees. The State of the World Economy. Food. Sleep. Walks...

Quick blip. Kiz will thank me for putting her art on display - 20 something years after she made it. I made Arthur a g/f called Jezebel but she exploded in the kiln. Boom.

Thank you to cathintheattic who tolerates my nicking off with her photo ideas with good grace and fortitude.

Fingers crossed today sis