Today mom told me the story of how Kafka (our cat) got his name. Do you know the story that Franz Kafka wrote called The Metamorphosis? Well, apparently in it there is a guy named Gregor Samsa who wakes up one morning to realize he's turned into a giant cockroach. And you know what happens to those big cockroaches - they can't right themselves once they're on their backs with their big ol' bellies sticking out. Well apparently even as a tiny little puff of orange and white fur, Kafka had a knack for laying on his back with all four paws in the air and the belly that didn't make it easy to right himself.
Kafka demonstrates this position for your viewing pleasure.
Damn but it's really hot here again today.
I've been spending inordinate amounts of time in front of my new best friend, the fan. I love how I can get the sensation of sticking my head out of a moving car window just by sitting in front of it. I know I had my doubts about this alien machine before, but no more. I am now firmly in Camp Fan.
Behemoth the spotty cat couldn't move...
Sekhmet the black cat was hiding in the darkest corner she could find...
And we couldn't even find Aeon the brown tabby, which means that she's in serious heat hiding. How much longer does this summer thing last?
Here's a quick photo of my paw - the latest and greatest foxtail recovery. They really gave me a serious shave this time! Maybe that's why every bandage keeps sliding right off suspiciously just after mom puts a new one on...
Love,
Bogart
See all of the surreal, foreboding photos on my other blog:
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