To glamorous Fluffy, my beautiful long-haired Persian cat, Fluffy who came to us as a half-grown kitten, just fur and bone, so near starvation I feared the kitten would drop dead before managing to consume that first bowl of milk I proffered. Fluffy of the big green wondering eyes and enormous ruff and short white gloves and high white boots, with a snow white waistcoat and an enormous burst of frosty white fur at the throat, the whole effect made more formal by a satiny black coat and big sweeping plumelike black tail, Fluffy the ‘sleeping beauty’ who loves to dream the days away and play madly at night, affectionate Fluffy of the high sweet treble meow and soft gentle purr, to Fluffy who – for all that obviously aristocratic lineage – was set on a path of despair when first we met and who has won through to the lordly position of premier pet in our household, to Fluffy so obviously suited for a wandering life of ‘castle to castle’, this book is affectionately dedicated. (LISBON by Valerie Sherwood)
I think this lady writer loves her cat quite a lot. I haven’t dedicated a book to Crumblechops yet. How would it go, I wonder?
To hairy Crumblechops, my bad-tempered short-coated indeterminate tabby, Crumblechops who came to us in a cardboard box as a kitten, so completely adorable that I practically had her on toast, Crumblechops of the greenish narrowed eyes and tiny feet and short white socks and explosive tail, with a snow white apron and extremely soft ears, the whole effect made more exquisite by her permanent state of near-wild usage of teeth, Crumblechops the lazy hairball who loves to sleep the days away and the nights as well, preferably on the radiator, unfriendly Crumblechops of the high and demanding soprano meow and Harley Davidson motorbike purr, to Crumblechops who – for all that she’s clearly come from the gutter – was set on a path of perfect happiness until we came along and who has won through to the queenly position of only pet in our household apart from the spiders in the bathroom, to Crumblechops, so obviously suited for a life of permanent snoozing, this blog post is dedicated. Just please don’t claw my head tonight.
It doesn’t have the same ring to it.