Precious. What kind of name is that. We had a cat before Precious – his name was Barn Cat. He was okay, not so big. Stayed away a lot. He got killed by a car. 2-leg-mom cried and cried. Then all of a sudden this new cat just showed up. He was a matted mess, and he stunk. But 2-leg-mom said he’s a precious soul, and she scooped him up and cuddled him and cried and cried. (She cries a lot I guess!) So that’s how Precious got here and got named.
It’s not that Precious has ever tried to harm me, or any of us for that matter. But I did see him carrying around a dead rabbit last summer. Other than that, he pretty much keeps to himself. But he just “looks” around all the time. All the time eyeing everything that moves. Birds. Mice. Rabbits. Me. He sits on the hay bales and watches. He prowls around the pasture and watches.
Yesterday when 2-leg-mom came in the barn, she saw that Precious had a bloody ear. Oh she cooed at him, and cleaned it up, and gave him some goo, and he just stood there and took it. He’s that tough. Not even a flinch. But then he sat on 2-leg-mom’s lap and watched me. I think he even smiled. Smirked is probably a better word. Sort of like saying, “The other cat looks much worse. You’re next!”
I hate cats.