While I was away, Hub Man ran slap up into a serious evaluation of our cat's psychological profile.
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We decided he had been misnamed. We bestowed upon him the name Griffen before we had become truly aware the full range of his personality. As soon as we had identified his dominant personality trait, he was summarily and forthwith dubbed:
"Hamlet"
And as such he will be henceforth referred to.
A more conflicted and indecisive animal, I have never known. When he's in, he thinks he wants out. If we let him out, he immediately thinks he wants back in. I say "thinks" because his favorite place seems to be just inside or just outside of an open door. Since bugs applaud this situation, and winter approaches, Hamlet may not have his most perfect of worlds. And it's driving him AND us crazy.
I heard him mutter under his kitty whiskers not long ago, while lying pressed up to the back door window with one paw over his forehead. . .
"To outside, or not to outside.
That is the question.
Whether it is nobler in the mind
to suffer the jays and stray dogs
of outrageous serendipity
or to take up claws
against a sea of cat-terrors
and by clawing, end them.
Aye, there's the rub."
Shakespeare, where ever you are, I beg your pardon.
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[album 65561 DaffyCat2.JPG]
We decided he had been misnamed. We bestowed upon him the name Griffen before we had become truly aware the full range of his personality. As soon as we had identified his dominant personality trait, he was summarily and forthwith dubbed:
"Hamlet"
And as such he will be henceforth referred to.
A more conflicted and indecisive animal, I have never known. When he's in, he thinks he wants out. If we let him out, he immediately thinks he wants back in. I say "thinks" because his favorite place seems to be just inside or just outside of an open door. Since bugs applaud this situation, and winter approaches, Hamlet may not have his most perfect of worlds. And it's driving him AND us crazy.
I heard him mutter under his kitty whiskers not long ago, while lying pressed up to the back door window with one paw over his forehead. . .
"To outside, or not to outside.
That is the question.
Whether it is nobler in the mind
to suffer the jays and stray dogs
of outrageous serendipity
or to take up claws
against a sea of cat-terrors
and by clawing, end them.
Aye, there's the rub."
Shakespeare, where ever you are, I beg your pardon.
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