Det här är min sida om våra husdjur.
Vi har haft massor av höns och smådjur, som hamstrar, möss, marsvin och kaniner, men katter har vi alltid haft. Denna sida handlar numer mest om våra katter och speciellt om min katt Arien och hennes avkomma. Hon är en helvit angorakatt och nu har vi tre till som hon, men också två helsvarta. Alla ättlingar till min katt Arien.

This is my site about our pets.
We have had lost of chickens and small pets, like hamsters, mice, ginnypigs and rabbits, but cats have we always had. This page is now mostly about our cats and specially my cat Arien and her offspring. She's a solid white angora cat and now we have three more like her, but also two solid black ones. All descendants from my cat Arien.


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When the tea is brought at five o'clock,
And all the neat curtains are drawn with care,
The little black cat with bright green eyes
Is suddenly purring there.

At first she pretends, having nothing to do, She has come in merely to blink by the grate,
But, though tea may be late or the milk may be sour, She is never late.
And presently her agate eyes Take a soft large milky haze,
And her independent casual glance Becomes a stiff, hard gaze.

Then she stamps her claws or lifts her ears,
Or twists her tail and begins to stir,
Till suddenly all her lithe body becomes
One breathing, trembling purr.

The children eat and wriggle and laugh; The two old ladies stroke their silk:
But the cat is grown small and thin with desire, Transformed to a creeping lust for milk.
The white saucer like some full moon descends At last from the clouds of the table above;
She sighs and dreams and thrills and glows, Transfigured with love.

She nestles over the shining rim,
Buries her chin in the creamy sea;
Her tail hangs loose; each drowsy paw
Is doubled under each bending knee.

A long, dim ecstasy holds her life; Her world is an infinite shapeless white,
Till her tongue has curled the last holy drop, Then she sinks back into the night,
Draws and dips her body to heap Her sleepy nerves in the great arm-chair,
Lies defeated and buried deep Three or four hours unconscious there.

Poem by Harold Monro




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Just this side of Heaven Is a place called Rainbow Bridge
When an animal dies that has been Especially close to someone here,
That pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills
For all of our special friends So they can run and play together
There is plenty of food, Water and sunshine
And our friends are warm And comfortable.

All the animals Who had been ill and old
Are restored to health and vigor; Those who were hurt or maimed
Are made whole and strong again Just as we remember them
In our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content,
Except for one small thing: They each miss someone very special,

Someone who was left behind. They all run and play together,
But the day comes When one suddenly stops
And looks into the distance His bright eyes are intent;
His eager body begins to quiver. Suddenly, he breaks from the group,
Flying over the green grass, Faster and faster
You have been spotted, And when you and your

Special friend finally meet, You cling together in joyous reunion,
Never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face;
Your hands again caress The beloved head,
And you look once more Into those trusting eyes,
So long gone from your life, But never absent from your heart
Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together...

Poem by Author Unknown





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Pets And Angora Cats

Pets And Angora Cats

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Music by Every Brothers - Let It Be Me.