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Mogwai's Gang
We belong to a human called Slof...
Well we think it's a human, but we could be wrong. We enjoyed reading
your stuff, we found the projectile vomiting hilarious! We are:-
Mogwai:- I am boss cat and mum of Stripe - Slof calls me
'Plushy Fur' because my fur is long and velvety. The rewards of
keeping oneself at one's best, eh! I especially enjoyed the purraholics
page - I too suffer from uncontrollable purring - it has a great
effect on Slof!
Thing:- I am old, wise and large - Slof thinks I am senile,
but I am just fooling...
aren't I?
Now, what was I doing.....?
Stripe:- I am Mogwai's daughter, I kill things, I love
fighting, I kill things,
...and then I kill more things!
Gnermal:- My name is silly, but then so am I! It is short
for Girl Nermal.
I love everybody in the whole world - my friends call me Moon
Unit .......
Spaz:- I am small, tortoiseshell and still in disgrace
for peeing in the cool bag! I hate Stripe - she's always bullying
me and I am so small. I found that being naughty doesn't work
with Slof - I end up outside watching the fat, fuzzy bouncing
meals in a run and wondering what they are. (Chinchillas!)
We were six until my niece, Blacken (can you believe it, she was
white!) was brutally murdered in a bloody rabbit snare - Slof
wants to shoot the bastard responsible - Slof has a big, mean
rifle!
Leila is the smallest of us too but she doesn't get bullied because
she's also the best fighter of the group (in fact of our whole
neighbourhood). She's very fast and very skilful.
When jumped by a larger cat (and Solly try's this frequently -
some people never learn!) she goes down on her back presenting
a perfect opportunity for a stomach rake with your back claws.
As soon as the offending cat lands on her to take advantage of
this golden opportunity, she does a back flip from a prone position
and the assailant is launched into the air landing a few seconds
later on his back! In that split second as he gasps for breath
she's coming down and lands on his stomach with a thud and proceeds
to bite anything sensitive! (With toms she does a 180 degree turn
in mid air and lands with her teeth at the business end, if you
see what I mean - always good for a laugh that one! Oh the screams!)
The end result is always the same, larger cat runs whimpering
from the scene of his disgrace and treats her with exaggerated
respect for a few days.
The humans call her the SAS.
As for poor Blacken you don't need a rifle, you need a bear trap
for that human responsible!
You can read a tribute to Blacken in The
Cats Guide To Grief.
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