The world lost the extraordinary talent of P. G. Wodehouse on February 14, 1975. He joked about cats, and he loved them. One of his earliest writing contains this description:
'His black heart was hidden by a sleek coat of tabby fur, which rendered stroking a luxury. His scheming brain was out of sight in a shapely head.
This is from "The Tabby Terror", a 1902 story.
His depictions of cats are just a fraction of his genius. I like what Evelyn Waugh wrote on a Christmas gift to Wodehouse, in 1961; to: ‘The head of my profession.’
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