Let’s talk about love

Let’s talk about love, shall we? No, not that love that you are thinking about now, not romantic love or the way a son loves his mother, or even how a big brother loves his lil sis. No, no, no! I am talking about passion, about what drives you, what makes you jump out of the warm bed in the morning and dance through the day. You are getting the feeling, right? Are you nodding and having a smile on your face now? For Mom it is me (of course, have no doubts about that!), for Pixie…can you guess? Right! Me as well, with a little playing around and occasional purring like a broken purring machine.

For me it is exploring the world and birds! Or maybe birds even come first. I LOOOVE them, I swear. I sit still for them, I wag my tail for them, I sing for them! But they never answer to my feelings. They tease me and mock me, can you believe that? Who in his right mind is able to reject me? I reckon they are just stupid (not you Pico and Poco @jones_fids, not you!). Otherwise there is no reasonable exploration why they would not come and play with me as I ask them. I will be gentle, I promise! I like the process of hunting, I need the drive and the action. I won’t eat them, because I am a fan of healthy eating and I eat only high quality boiled chicken breast (cut before cooked!).

Twice I had a bird in my paws already and twice I let it go. Catch and release is a cool game when everyone stays safe, but Baby Dragon quenches his thirst of hunting.

Tell me what your passion is!?

Meet Mr. Grumpy

My mood often changes from good to bad, from playful to aggressive, from relaxed to grumpy. All of them can happen in one day. But there are days when Mr.Grumpy is my only state. Mama calls me Crocozliuk in such times, it means angry crocodile.
I’ve been Crocozliuk a lot during winter, having no possibility to walk outside; I am becoming Crocozliuk when Mom is busy and I want to play; I am Crocozliuk every time she won’t go for a walk with me when I ask her to; I can even wake up being Crocozliuk with no reason at all.
But the worst case of all is when someone comes to my home or, God forbid, tries to touch me. Being touched outside by anyone except Mom turns me into something even worse: into a crazy little demon saving his life…
So now you know I am cute only from the distance. There are people, who would listen to Mom and not try to touch me or stay long at our place and I might even like them a bit. Meeting such people I’d rub on them even to greet them. But, please, not forget that shall I even feel the desire in you to touch me…the crazy little daemon is always inside me waiting for such a moment…