Worlds Bestest Places

Im guessing that George was one of the two kitties I let live..the mother cat died of lead poisoning so Mum said.. And the brother named him George. This cat..long fur like his mother..whiteish, lots of tabby there..Pop..Mums Dad had a tabby kitty that seemed to go where he did, and I imagine fathered not a few kittens with the mother cat…but anyway. George liked to get carted around, we used to hang him around our necks..he’d dangle there..and purr. Not just any purr either..a loud continual one. Only time he stopped purring, was when some..lad for want of a better name..see him in the mirror here and there..took George to the river bank and showed him the river. No purr…that was rare! And claws happened too!