Chéri and I would be long dead.
But not just dead… More like so violently ripped to pieces that the forensic team would have had to do DNA tests in our families to identify us.
When we adopted Freja, I knew she had attitude. It was the main reason I chose her. My little fluffball’s brothers and sisters had much less flamboyant characters, and I just thought she’d be more interesting.
And she is interesting in many ways, but not camera-friendly to the slighest. Even if I doubt that she understands what a camera actually is, early in her kitten life, she decided that she hated all of them.
It definately isn’t an on and off thing. She hates cameras 24/7. There’s absolutely no way to catch her by surprise, she always puts on an angry look whenever I approach, cell phone in hand. And that’s when she doesn’t just turn her back to me to mark her disaproval.
She doesn’t seem to get that for a blogger, a couple of cute pet pictures can help fill in some space, when inspiration has gone astray. And what’s cuter than a persian cat, with its large Puss In Boots eyes?
I’ll never know. Because Freja has set up her mind on not letting me capture her true, adorable side.
Even if she doesn’t pay for her part of the rent, and certainly doesn’t bring money home for her favorite food and treats.
At least, I’m still breathing… So far.