The playful kitten, with its pretty little tigerish gambols, is infinitely more amusing than half the people one is obliged to live with in the world. Lady Sydney Morgan

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Eileen, the next door cat lady, was waiting for me yesterday after a short errand run. She told me her brother had called from Toronto and that one of the shelters had been raided and the animals had been tortured, etc. She wanted to know how she could find out more information. Toronto’s her hometown. She had owned a very successful restaurant there for many years. Successful enough that she’s lived down here since she retired. Anyhoo, I asked her what papers were in Toronto. She said the Star and the Sun so I went lookin’. I’ve included the articles from both but the Sun has a video. Has a graphic image that made me cry and rage at the same time. Be warned.

Toronto Star

Toronto Sun

This is today’s story from the Toronto Sun.

I had intended to go on a rant but I just don’t have enough information to do that. I can speculate until the sun falls from the sky but that’s wasted energy imo. I’m certainly not pleased that the people who worked there and knew better didn’t blow the whistle on this much sooner. We’ll probably never know how many animals met their fate needlessly in this horrific place. That said, don’t believe for a moment that I’m not absolutely outraged by this.

Brutus is beginning to come out of his shell. After he eats he’s gotten into the habit of getting into the recliner never intended for human occupancy and going to sleep. When I go to bed Kismet always wants to be picked up and be petted. If I lay down she starts to knead, makin’ biscuits in the vernacular, on my neck, of all places. I have to wonder if she did that with her previous caretaker. Anyhoo, the other night I was sitting there petting her and Brutus is looking at me with a "me next" look. I got up and started to pet him, which he usually tolerates for a minute or two then jumps down, and he started to roll and purr. I must have petted him for about 10 minutes before he decided he’d had enough. Makin’ progress.

Christmas is coming. Xmas trees and all those balls, bells and lights. Tiger heaven. If anybody has shown me not to hang any decorations it’s Nagi, Prince of Darkness. This little guy sits on the arm of one of the couches and jumps onto the top of one of my speakers, which is sitting on top of a huge speaker that Ptah managed to ruin by clawing at the fabric on the front and destroyed the speaker behind it. Five feet from the couch to the speaker and almost 5 feet to the top of the speaker from the floor. I know when it happens cuz I hear the thump when the speaker hits the floor upside down. I wanna know who managed to breed a gazelle with a tiger.

Share your tiger stories with us. Gotta be some great holiday stories out there.

Anybody got a good source for tiger quotes? I’ve managed to burn through just about all I have.

At whiles it seems as if one were somewhat as the cats, which ever have appeared to me to be animals of two parts, the one of the house and the cushion and the prepared food, the other that is free of the night and runs wild with the wind in its coat and the smell of the earth in its nostrils.
Una L Silberrad