Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
Wednesday, 29 May 2013
A cat on the railway
This is another cat related post, I hope nobody minds, last one was less than a week ago. I blogged before about the cats on the railway at the station where I stop before I walk to work. They were three at first: a black one I christened Mephisto, a mainly black one with a white tummy, that I named Guinness and a small black and white one which I think I called Domino. And then there was a fourth cat who showed up, the fourth Musketeer, which I obviously christened d'Artagnan. I give names to cats now. The cats that dwell on the railway by the train station are quite elusive, they don't like human contacts. Sometimes on of them, usually Mephisto, ventures on the single platform of the station, but it is to disappear immediately in the green weedy patch by the platform if someone (me) tries to get close to him. I tried time and again to take picture of time, without success, until a few days ago when I finally managed to take a picture of d'Artagnan. I think he knew he was being photographed. But here he is anyway.