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Mohican Katt: The Last Meow

So yes. With the date of my impending departure from Mordor to pastures new drawing ever closer, last night bought a picnic on the mountain for my two fellow band members and myself.

Meowing a tune isn't difficult, it's the harmony (and low growling tomcat accompaniment) which sets a cat's chorus apart, and I think we managed that quite well.

Over the years we meowed a lot

And drank a lot.

We hunted for ghosts

And photographed fairies (don't ask).

We climbed up to castle ruins at the dead of night

And pestered rooks in graveyards where the Brontës once trod.

We lit candles for dead kings in cathedrals

And talked all night until the sun rose.

And we ate.

My GOD how we ate!

And so this is how we celebrated our final meow:

I'd add an audio file of us wailing 'Jerusalem' around an open fire, but I'd hate to cause irreversible damage to anyones lug-holes.

God knows, it's certainly buggered mine...

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