Friday, January 8, 2010

Puckolai Puckolaevich

We'd always assumed the reason we couldn't understand Puck was because he was speaking a different language. That's not the case at all. Puck has been speaking perfect English for quite some time; it's just that he has such a thick Russian accent it's difficult to understand him. Adjusting to the life of an American cat hasn't been easy for Puck. Back in the motherland he was a member of the intelligentsia and a celebrated cosmonaut. Here, he is forced to read Pushkin in translation, which gives him a headache. And when we offer him a bowl of water he says, Nyet, wodka!


Anonymous said...

Your blog is an absolute joy, always.

That's So Pants said...

I'm sorry Tai, I should never have let Barney visit Puck.



Querulous Squirrel said...

He looks a little tipsy from too much wodka, no offense.

Tai said...

Squirrel, when it comes to the melancholy Russian soul, what's too much wodka?

Pants, Puck worships Barney. He strives to attain owliness in his own life and work.

Anon., I thank you for your lovely comment -- and Puck thanks you.

Thaisa said...

I wonder, though, if Puck is secretly relieved because he doesn't have to talk to anybody and has time to write the epic sequel to War and Peace. Besides, I'm sure I've seen a cat at A Cote who looks just like Puck drinking vodka and mourning the absence of caviar.

Tai said...

I hope that cat left his keys at the bar. Puck knows I don't approve of drinking and driving.