long live the Queen...

Today, we're celebrating Foof's ninth birthday.  Since learning of the date a few years ago, I've created announcements proclaiming the glorious occasion - this year's inspiration is that other Queen's Jubilee.  After greeting in a distinctive manner some neighboring cats who came to pay their respects, HRH tucked into her favorite repast, a chicken and duck pate with a refreshing salad of oat grass.  She accepted, with typical grace, my apologies for being unable to stage, in her honor,  a stately, floating procession of gayly bedecked craft and instead, enjoyed a few moments in the bathtub.   On the advent of the next year of her triumphant reign, she is as majestic, clever and beautiful as one could hope for.  For a celebratory treat, she asked to hear the recitation of a favorite passage from Chaucer.  She is now resting, having exhausted herself over a tin of catnip sardines.

Vivat Regina, dearest Foo Foo, long may you live!

Mice Before Milk   Lat take a cat and fostre hym wel with milk And tendre flessch and make his couche of silk, And lat hym seen a mous go by the wal, Anon he weyvith milk and flessch and al, And every deyntee that is in that hous, Suich appetit he hath to ete a mous.  

from The Manciple's Tale

Geoffrey Chaucer