Opus d'art

This is me doing performance art; it's my impressionist phase. They don't call me Opus for nothing you know.

I don't need no special cat club!

They think they're so special, those two. I have a featherstick of my very own, and my own human to fetch it back upstairs for me. How special am I?

No-one loves me!

Well, the humans love me. I can do laps, and I like being picked up. That, apparently, makes me sort of unusual around here - maybe that's why the other two cats here hiss and glare at me so much. I try to be friendly and I do my round-eyed thing at them, but it doesn't seem to work so well on cats as it does on people.

I do kind of miss the house-party I came from. There were LOADS of other cats there and we used to sleep in a big warm heap. The house-party was called a rescue centre but it felt like a party to me. New cats arriving all the time and then some of the ones who'd been at the party for ages would vanish. I guess I've vanished now. Have I been rescued now? Or was that before? I'm kind of confused.

Oh well. At least the cuddling's good here. And I have a bed to myself - I get the very top bunk. I've always wanted that one.

Maybe the others will love me tomorrow.

Everybody loves me!

Everyone's happy now because I'm here! I chase things!! I purr! I sit on laps! I love everyone and everyone loves me because I'm Petie!!!

I does laps