Mona, the 20 (twenty) year old cat chases her tail, 1-6-10
In her continued drive to pursuade us that she is NOT 20 (twenty) years old - and she wishes we would stop referring to her as that - Mona springs forth in pursuit of that pesky tail that has been mercilessly trailing her all of these (fewer) years.
This tail will not let her alone. Always there out of the corner of her eye. Like Jacob Marley in Dickens' The Christmas Carol, Mona wears the chains (tail) she forged in life. She is down with this tail, and cannot quit it. Nor quite catch it.
After several minutes of again fruitless mad chase, she goes to the decorative but functional Berea broom near the hearth and gnaws another strand or two. Necessary roughage, she says, without asking our permission.
