We don’t have a pet, though we’ve had cats in our time. I admire their independence, their insistence on setting the terms of any relationship they choose to establish with you.
My daughters have cats though. They would agree with this piece of street art in Brick Lane.
Miquel passed the test with Emily, and forthwith got his own cat, the supercilious Lulu. Who does not get on with…
… Emily’s Archie.
Archie likes to hide in boxes … or carrier bags … or baskets …
At least they have a home. On our travels, we’ve met plenty of feral cats. We’ve learnt not to feel too sorry for them. Clearly they are loved and cared for by some people in the community. Cádiz has its feline shanty towns, constructed with human help, on the rocks by the sea. Dinner is served here every evening by willing waiting staff. Probably breakfast too, for all I know.
Thessaloniki has its bed and breakfast accommodation sorted.
And a siesta is easily come by.
Dogs though. Dogs just want to have fun. As I found out on the beach at Bamburgh last October…
… unless they’re waiting for their owner…
… or swimming in the river, as my friend Dilys is doing in the featured photo. Though she, like the beach dogs, is having a pretty good time.
This is in response to Tina for this weeks’s Lens-Artists Challenge #134
From Pyrenees to Pennines 
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