Waffles missing many fangs, has only one eye and one of her back legs is
held together by means of a metal rod in it. Despite this, she is sprightly,
fit, *knows* she is the superior being, and is queen of all she surveys.

This morning she earned her keep. She told me she wished to go out into the
garden by standing at the door and saying, "Mee Owt!" So I opened the door
to let her out.  About twenty minutes later I hear a feline accented,
"Mowwwwmm", so I went to open the door. I was greeted by the sight of the
mighty huntress with a mole firmly clamped in her jaws. Still warm but
definitely of the end of tunnel variety. As moles are the bane of my life,
as they render the surface of my lawn something resembling what NASA could
fake moon landings on, I am heartily pleased with Waffles this morning. She
has dined on fine homecooked ham as her reward. She is purring and so am I.
My weak ankle thanks her for her diligence.

Cheers, helen s