intro for
the world
the eyes
of a cat...


what the cat saw...

mgrnaw!... says sand
settling dusk.. sun-
light wakes me up...
what leads from there
the wind decides...

what do i see today...

cinnamon is a persian
short-haired who could
just as easily have been
called tawney...

she's speckled-white like
she was sitting in the
sand and moves on right
angles as young cats do...

thinks cinnamon... mghnrnaw!

sometimes people ask me
where tawney is to
so i tell them, she's in B.C.
with hope and her mom
in the okanagan valley
where it never snows...

that may sound crazy
unless you know the story
through cinnamon's eyes
one day...



cinnamon always
refer to herself
as cinnamon...

not because she can't
speak better english...

cinnamon probably understand
more what you say
than you what she say...

famous cat said that once
through bloom...


cinnamon knows the story...

why you so slow...

cinnamon looking out
this window a
long time...

she knows the plot
but not tawney
or B.C....

come what may...

cinnamon will see...



so what cinnamon do
she say
bye you

rolls out into the world
to find she's in b.c.

with tawney
and hope's mom

it sound strange to you
that cinnamon knows
who hope is

hope is the lovely
lady who brought
us here
and tawney's
another cat