Monday, 2 March 2009


Portraits of Assorted Beasts.

The relationship between Murphy, Una and Tim is complex and subtle. Una seems to regard Murphy as the child she never had, and plays with him often - terrible rough games involving pulling the cat around by his scruff. But Murph seems to delight in it and when Una tires of it, will come back shouting for more.
Tim doesn´t care much for Murphy. Jealousy. He resents it that Murph can come and climb on my lap any time he wants - diverting vital affection that should go to him.
Tim also resents it that Murph can stroll about the house bellowing arrogantly for attention, food, company, the best spot in the dog basket - and get it.

I have studied many philosophers and many cats. The wisdom of cats is infinitely superior.

Hippolyte Taine


The dog has seldom been successful in pulling man up to its level of sagacity, but man has frequently dragged the dog down to his.
James Thurber


My life has been full of terrible misfortunes most of which never happened.
Michel de Montaigne

I tried to find Stevie Smith saying it, but no good. It´s not the same written down, but there we are.

The Galloping Cat

by Stevie Smith

Oh I am a cat that likes to
Gallop about doing good
One day when I was
Galloping about doing good, I saw
A figure in the path; I said
Get off! (Be-
I am a cat that likes to
Gallop about doing good)
But he did not move, instead
He raised his hand as if
To land me a cuff
So I made to dodge so as to
Prevent him bringing it orf,
Un-for-tune-ately I slid
On a banana skin
Some Ass had left instead
Of putting in the bin. So
His hand caught me on the cheek
I tried
To lay his arm open from wrist to elbow
With my sharp teeth

Because I am
A cat that likes to gallop about doing good.
Would you believe it?
He wasn’t there
My teeth met nothing but air,
But a Voice said: Poor Cat,
(Meaning me) and a soft stroke
Came on me head
Since when
I have been bald.
I regard myself as
A martyr to doing good
Also I heard a swoosh
As of wings, and saw
A halo shining at the height of
Mrs Gubbins’s backyard fence,
So I thought: What’s the good
Of galloping about doing good
When angels stand in the path
And do not do as they should
Such as having an arm to be bitten off
All the same I
Intend to go on being
A cat that likes to
Gallop about doing good
Now with my bald head I go,
Chopping the untidy flowers down, to
and fro,
An’ scooping up the grass to show
The cinder path of wrath
Ha ha ha ha, ho,
Angels aren’t the only ones who do
not know
What’s what and that
Galloping about doing good
Is a full time job
That needs
An experienced eye of earthly
Sharpness, worth I dare say
(if you’ll forgive a personal note)
A good deal more
Than all that skyey stuff
Of angels that make so bold as
To pity a cat like me that
Gallops about doing good.

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