...the Mistress of Sarcasm tells us about her cat.
No, not Neighbor...or Matata...or Hakuna.
![Stripes, 1985](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_tcvtGLbANX7P9mGi65JVqBCTirwga5GYDy07T7thb5ZeVwqgWRRL-VjI5jhMuBMEfV7gLoo_RNOA_MFHsL-7ofXq_CAHcfCzP0oiII3tn-z33WmWGwYhm8Z2pbDNkeAUZfMFkmhiAYrtTOKA=s0-d)
Stripes, in 1985.
Long before any of those kitties became a part of our lives, there was Stripes. I’ve written about him before, but never with quite the same eloquence - and Unconventional Orthography - as did the then-seven-year-old Mistress:
![Concerning Stripes](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_uy-9JfX65zfme4JLT463AV6J_CRN8d866VjwT-C7AJ7uUz7jX18D9PXpWeYhCHaB6hTEMVRh43wvxUP7VzfknQhfEVZJsVSfBK_iGMxT-ZswctLPp7IsHQXVIQ9D75cKmgN_QuAFnyuD-0WiN2yA=s0-d)
Ah, the Innocence of Yoot™!
No, not Neighbor...or Matata...or Hakuna.
Stripes, in 1985.
Long before any of those kitties became a part of our lives, there was Stripes. I’ve written about him before, but never with quite the same eloquence - and Unconventional Orthography - as did the then-seven-year-old Mistress:
Ah, the Innocence of Yoot™!
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