Original Message:   No joy, but some consolation
Yes, I was sorry not to be able to play. We had a cat we got from the local S.P.C.A. (U. S. equivalent to Britain's R.S.P.C.A.) He was a hybrid Siamese-Angora, which gave the mischievousness and markings of a Siamese with the uh, inconvenience, of a long-hair. (After he died, we took a tour of Denmark, the area formerly known as Lapland, and Norway. I opened a sealed plastic bag with a brand-new shirt inside--to find cat hair inside! We had the cat for fourteen years, and have shed his hair in 29 countries and four continents.

He was a real character. We already had a cat, a rescue runt of the litter born in our woodpile (when fireplaces were still legal to be used.) Piece of advice: never, NEVER adopt 1. a feral cat (they can rarely be fully tamed) or 2. the runt of the litter (they are fearful, having been picked on constantly, and wary of all people and other animals.) We had named her "Tribble." (I'm sure you all know where THAT came from!) She was fairly large, while Foxy (he looked like a small grey fox) remained about half her size. He didn't stay "Foxy" for long: Schwartzenegger (sp?) was "The Governator then, so Papa Elf started called the cat "Foximator."

We both wept at his passing.

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