Today’s cover-cat is named Ambrose – possibly the first Ambrose I’ve encountered in Furry Friday world. He is perfection with a neat seam.
It’s five months since my last “cat bellies” edition. Is it too soon to do it again? I submit that “no” is the correct answer.
That’s because cat bellies never get old. They never stop being miracles of luxuriance, amplitude and symmetry. And they are mostly a hidden treasure, given that they seldom go on display except in private and in moments of ease, security and abandon.
So let’s bring them out into public view once more, to delight the eye and tease the imagination: “What would happen if I gave that belly the tiniest touch?” Enjoy!
Not sure if George’s message is ‘come hither’ or ‘fool around and find out’.
Thanks to all for submitting photos. Please email me your own pet photos, or message me via the Four Legs Good Facebook page. Help keep Furry Friday free of embarrassing mistakes by remembering to include your pet’s name, and its sex if it’s not obvious!
Max Purrstappen has come a long way since being found abandoned in a rubbish bin. Go Max!
Meet Dr Livingstone, whose belly features the face of another cat. In my opinion, anyway. Can you see it?
Elijah puts on view a tidy ginger tummy.
Oh dear, now I’m looking for faces in every abdomen. Oscar seems to have someone peering out. Again, in my opinion.
Kado is unimpressed at the hearth rug’s lame attempt to upstage him.
Twiggy looks like a flokati rug with paws and head.
Four-month-old Winston has it all going on: spots, waves and sea foam.
Another spot-bearer is Gino, here embedded in a fragrant sleeping bag.
Here’s another Winston, putting himself on display.
Elvis cools himself. I know this is a belly collection, but that tail is worth a mention.
Louise demonstrates how space-time curves around a massive object. Such as an ottoman.
Rosie (left) sleeps with commitment. Pixie flirts; will you respond?
Lizzie (left) has a topographical tummy; Lottie’s looks like an industrial fire; Finny’s is a drift of fresh snow.
Some tums are taut and disciplined, like those of Eddie (left), Kali and Smoke.
Biscuit (left) has everything curled; Fuzzy is sun-softened; Charlie has, would you believe, another cat face gazing out (in my opinion).
Examples of perfect, fair and poor camouflaging: Sparky (left), Gin and Gwen.
Acres of orange: Brodie (left), Ronnie and Klaus.
Freya and Luna are couch-puddles.
Why be shy when your underside is as spectacular as Poppy’s (left) or Elliott’s?
Lola (left) stayed for a while in a cattery. On her return home, she rushed outside to get some sun on her body. Wilbur has … I don’t want to say it. Can you see it too?
Activating the paws improves the quality of your sleep, you know. Frank (left) and Izzie show how.
Luigi has less eye-power than most cats, but he makes up for it in determination. Adopted as an unsocialised stray, he took weeks to feel safe enough to come out from under the bed. Now the bed is his.
Flexible Purdy folds herself around a table leg.
Nermie sleeps to the beat of his own drum.
Chloe dreams of driving a car.
A tribute to the beauty of the late Molly.
Andy fits whatever space is available.
I do not know how Kansas got his name. Looking at him spread out on a duvet, I wondered if he was named after the American state famous, wrongly, for being as flat as a pancake.
Jack is caramel-and-cream perfection.
Finally, meet Ronnie. He wants it to be known that he’s not dreaming of driving a car and there aren’t any faces on his tummy.