Frick

I think I may have said earlier that the title of this blog is subject to change without notice. I can never seem to make up my mind about these sorts of things. In the meantime, this is something that will never change:



This is Frick.

People tell me that she is cute, but I think they're just being polite. She wasn't cute even when she was a kitten. She's never been a particularly nice cat either. For some reason or other I love her anyway.

I used to go swimming at the local pool and she would follow me there. She had an honoured spot on the wool blankets in the guard shack. The lifeguards used to call her "Freaky" and feed her all sorts of food that she wasn't supposed to have. I turned a blind eye to all this because whenever she came with me, I got to swim for free. I used to swim a lot.

Once my mom and I drove into downtown Vancouver from Port Moody on the freeway. Once there, we parked, spent a couple of hours and then drove back at the customary 10-15 km over the speed limit. It wasn't until someone flagged us down that we realized that Frick had travelled the entire distance in and out of the city tangled up in the roof rack. She was never quite the same after that.

Apparently there is another Frick out there, but mine was the first.