Pope Harry XII is our cat. He is the pope of the Indoor Catlick Church, not one of those heathen Roamin' Catlicks. He has two nuncios (socks impregnated with catnip) that he kicks around when they misbehave,
and now... I need to find a good source of information on feline psychiatry... he has acquired an acolyte. Mrs Haruo rediscovered her childhood stuffed animal, a donkey named Stonkey [presumably an early childhood contraction of "It's [a] donkey"], a few weeks ago (he had been lost in the underbrush for a couple of years), and Harry immediately set about discipling the little guy. I gave him a couple of lectures about how Stonkey was a very important animal, being an avatar of a Bible figure, Balaam's Ass. Apparently Harry took my admonitions to heart, because now we have caught him talking to Stonkey very earnestly on a number of occasions.
He holds the little stuffed donkey in a tight embrace and practices his homiletics on him. It's quite weird. Of course, David will deny it, but it is true, and we are not sure what to make of it. He doesn't try to kill the donkey like he sometimes does with the nuncios, he just holds it tight and talks to it, quite audibly though not with clear enough enunciation for us to figure out what he's saying. I took a picture of them playing poker yesterday, but it's an old-fashioned camera so I can't post it till the roll is done and developed...
Haruo
head of an ecumenical, interspecies household