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.
Sunday, 13 July 2014
Recently, my wife and I have been walking a good deal in the evenings (and the afternoons at weekends). We usually go into the street perpendicular to ours, the street where Odin (pictured left) used to live until he moved in this flat. I mentioned it recently. We call these walks the cat walks, because there are so many cats. in this street in particular. There are some more in the neighbourhood, we are discovering or rediscovering them. Last time, we stopped in a narrow walking alley and not one but three black cats were there. Of course I thought of Odin. But these ones were feral, they didn't let themselves be approached or touched, although at least one looked at us with a mild curiosity that for a moment took over his distrust. There are many cats of all colours around, usually we find at least one sociable enough for a few strokes and cuddles. It give me a boost of endorphins. I am not ready to adopt another cat after the death of Odin, but I need some contact with my feline friends. So for now I take cat walks.