How Grass Is Destroyed

This is Jymy somewhere in the middle of the forthcoming story. The picture is unaltered.






















My mother grows grass for our cats. I got a pot on Saturday. She'd been raving for two days about how beautiful it was. Every morning and every evening there had been a small drop of water on the tip of every blade. It really was very beautiful when I got it. Here's a picture story of what happened to the grass once it got to our place.














In the beginning everything looks rather peaceful.


Until Nukka shows that when it's a matter of shrimps, pig tongue or fresh grass, she's the boss. Her style is rather sophisticated.


But when it's Jymy's turn, the play gets rougher.


And it stays quite rough.














But even he has to take a short break once in a while. To gather up new inspiration.


Whoops.


But the eating is happening in controlled circumstances and the grass is placed back on the table. Here's a nice display of the crucial difference in the tempers of our cats.














And hence most of the pictures are of Jymy.


Who is the king of grass.






















Indeed.


And in the end all that is left is a terrible mess and a bit of soil on Jymy's nose.



And here they are helping me write the blog entry. Well, they were both at my side but obviously I didn't have my camera then. And you can't very well go and fetch your camera when you're underneath two cats, can you?