Mouth

I enjoyed my first beach holiday ever this Summer. I went away with four friends that I grew up with and relaxed wonderfully. I also seemed to absorb the sun and returned home looking like I'd worked in a coalmine, instead of beach-dwelling.

Paros is a beautiful island and Antiparos, even more so. Each day we'd find a new beach, which we would usually have to ourselves, where we could lounge and swim for most of the day. Bliss. Most fortunately, I didn't see a single crustacean. Woo!

As you'll know if you've been to Greece, cats run the place.


And I bloody love it. There were a few good friends at the villa, including Winey (who wouldn't shut up), Twenty-Twenty (who was blind) and, of especial note, Mouth. Mouth had no mouth. She was a delight. She was incredibly friendly and did that thing that cats do where they sort of headbutt things affectionately. Unfortunately, Mouth would leave a dribble-string everywhere she went. The cat lovers amongst us felt awful that she was so grim, found beauty in her and loved her all the more. Those not so fond of felines found her the mankiest cat that ever lived. They were wrong, of course.

Having said that, watching her catch a gecko and eat it wasn't an especially pleasing sight.

In honour of Mouth and all the pleasure she brought, I felt it necessary to write this and keep her alive in my memory.

What a cat.

Please put your glasses together for... Mouth!





(Thanks to Anoula for supplying the video and commentary, including the favourable line, "ugh she's doing that thing with her mouth".)