Longtime readers may recall some stories about Fergus, the pocket panther, and his occasional forays into the study of history and literature.
Fergus has been engaged in horticultural pursuits lately (id est, nibbling on the leaves of various houseplants and pretending it was someone else who did it)
Last night, however, he seemed to feel it was time to hit the books again. Literally. I came upstairs from the laundry room and found all the books on the Hundred Years' War (perhaps 3 or 4, my library on that conflict not being extensive) pulled off the shelf and left on the floor.
When he presented himself a few minutes later, he was wearing his flea collar as a sash. An attempt at military dress, or just a side effect of one of his more -erm- acrobatic leaps?
Hard to know. I replaced the books and corrected the collar, which seemed to please him (or at least did not offend him), and he skittered off on whatever Important Cat Business he needed to attend to. I'm hoping that didn't include re-enactments of scenes from Anglo-French conflicts.
Though if I come home from work tonight and find Froissart off the shelves, I won't be terribly surprised.