my cat’s have them, and they are cute. sometimes they fall out and stick in the carpet. they make me think of love and fuzz and cuteness. whiskers are great. too bad i don’t have them.
Cats have whiskers and cats always land on their feet. Old women and old men often have whiskers and they must have landed on their feet at some point to make it to such a ripe old age. I’m not scared of old age more. I can’t wait to have whiskers.
you fuzzly your noes my cute little precious cat thing. You lift your eyes your pink nose stares at me. I love you so much I cant help it even if I wanted to you. You remind me of childhood
Идея си нямам какво е това, може да е свързано с уиски;
а може и да е свързано с котешка храна.
Сещате ли се – уискас – току виж е същото.
и все пак, уиски?
The cat with long whiskers jumps over the fence and disappears behind the bushes. The girl comes from around the corner, appearing anxious at the runaway of her beloved friend.
She walked against the wall slowly and hesitantly. She sensed it was there, although she could not see it. One side of her face, her long, white, wispy whiskers, brushed against the wall gently. Although she was blind, this is how she made her way.
She strutted up to me as I was reading and poked me playfully with her nose. I smiled, glanced at her, and patted her on the head. But this wasn’t nearly enough. Disappointed, she began batting at my arm with her (thankfully) declawed paws, insisting that I give her a thorough petting and back massage.
She used to get really annoyed when I touched her whiskers; she’d twice her eyes and ears and turn away, flicking her tail. I can’t really blame her. I’d do the same if someone was messing with one of the most sensitive parts of my body without permission.
She slowly walked toward the wall. She was blind but she knew there was a wall there. How? By the stringy little whiskers flowing off her face. They brushed against the wall on the left side of her face.
cats. my best friend hayley. she looks like a cat. she has a cat. furry. tickle. uncomfortable. nuzzle, fuzzle, soft tingling touch. whiskers. i don’t like them.
it’s amazing to see how something grows through their whiskers. my dog rockaway stared out as a puppy with little smooth,slick, black whiskers. now as he has grown through the years youcan see the dark, slick black whiskers fade into a more gray, white color. i think it shows a sense of maturity. it shows his age and how he has grown into a beautiful dog. to me, he will always be the little puppy with those little whiskers going out fromevery direction.
It seemed as if the old man had whiskers just like the old tabby cat stretched across his legs. The man’s eyes began to drift shut, his skin of his old weathered stretched as his head nodded back against the headrest of the recliner.
I’m allergic to cats. I’m not sure if it’s their whiskers, their fur, their smell, the way the spring on you in the middle of the night when you’re on your way to get a drink of water, the way they don’t come when you call them like dogs do. Everytime I go to my aunt’s house in the city, I have to take a Benadryl so I don’t scratch my eyes out from itchiness. Only, I can’t swallow pills. So I have to bite the pill, and it numbs my tongue, and I fall asleep within ten minutes.
whiskers. I think of Nemo, i think of catfish i think of being vegetarian and how much i love potatoes. Being vegetarian is such a beautiful cleansing thing, i would not be any different.
i think about how much cats are friends not foes and how happy i am when my kitties come and nap on me and cuddle me i love how sweet and loving they are. it also remind me of fish, the catfish and normal fish, this reminds me of finding nemo and how stupidly it helps me be vegetarian, not that i need the help.
Whiskiers is more like it. The ones who love it. Whiskey is a camping essential. But this is where you must be discerning and buy good quality. Otherwise you will get broke off by BroKers. Never fun.
the cat’s whiskers matched his pyjamas. the little tiny stripes on his pj’s mimicked the tiny whiskers jutting out from his furry cheeks. He looked so sweet. What a pity he was really an evil
my dad has a face full of whiskers every evening and I always look forward to kissing him goodnight because while he pulls me in tight for a hug his whiskers scratch the soft skin of my cheeks and ruffle the damp tufts of hair hanging from my face. It’s a characteristic of his embrace I’ve come to appreciate and cherish.
my cat has whiskers . I have 4 cats that are a pain in the ass really , I don’t know if I will ever get rid of them … but anyhow I won’t be getting rid of one , my only & lovely cat , Gulfedan … she’s a black & white female cat. had her for 6 years now , maybe more not sure. but I love her so
Mixie scruffed his paw through his whiskers. His tail twitched, ready to pounce on the beautiful Zebra Swallowtail Butterfly. It fluttered around hypnotically through the spring grass. As a Feline-American, he believed it was his God-given right to appreciate beauty as he saw fit. By killing it.
were positioned all around the ethereal plane
like a mother’s bosom, the teats were hard with hair
brown fluctuations of light came from here bowels
her farts were subject to synesthesia,
the cat sat on the black hill, purring into its head. there is no hill dark enough to see what runs in its mind. i wouldn’t change places for the the world.
The whiskers were sawying in the wind, intune with the gentle breezes blowing across the plain. The cat was treading across the plain, and although the tall grass covered its body, the moonlight gleamed off of its whiskers, causing it to add a sense of mysteriousness to the anonymous cat.
Butter-yellow droplets clung to the cat’s whiskers; its pink tongue lapped out, drank up the milk and licked its chops, showing off its pearl-white teeth.
The cat stretched and mewled under her hand. Helga Sinclair scratched its ear.
“Suppose you’ll be wanting more, hm, kitty?” she said lazily.
Ah, the melody. I hear it whisking through my window again, the curtains thrown wide, the sunlight bathing the hardwood beneath the sill. Alas, but for the cat resting thereupon, it would seem so sweet… But the devilish thing want’s naught but to steal my dignity.
Butters, I secretly love your cute little whiskers, but you will never be better than my cat. I miss her so much.
Butters, You’re grounded.
Get away from me.
my cat’s have them, and they are cute. sometimes they fall out and stick in the carpet. they make me think of love and fuzz and cuteness. whiskers are great. too bad i don’t have them.
I went close to my cat one day. touching its face, I felt its whiskers glide along my hand. It tickled me but I realized that he is sleeping.
Whiskers on kittens…warm woolen mittens.
Cats have whiskers and cats always land on their feet. Old women and old men often have whiskers and they must have landed on their feet at some point to make it to such a ripe old age. I’m not scared of old age more. I can’t wait to have whiskers.
you fuzzly your noes my cute little precious cat thing. You lift your eyes your pink nose stares at me. I love you so much I cant help it even if I wanted to you. You remind me of childhood
His whiskers twitched.
He knew I was lying.
“Really, I’m fine!” I insisted.
“God, what is wrong with me. I’m talking to my cat.”
Идея си нямам какво е това, може да е свързано с уиски;
а може и да е свързано с котешка храна.
Сещате ли се – уискас – току виж е същото.
и все пак, уиски?
The cat with long whiskers jumps over the fence and disappears behind the bushes. The girl comes from around the corner, appearing anxious at the runaway of her beloved friend.
She walked against the wall slowly and hesitantly. She sensed it was there, although she could not see it. One side of her face, her long, white, wispy whiskers, brushed against the wall gently. Although she was blind, this is how she made her way.
Meow.
She strutted up to me as I was reading and poked me playfully with her nose. I smiled, glanced at her, and patted her on the head. But this wasn’t nearly enough. Disappointed, she began batting at my arm with her (thankfully) declawed paws, insisting that I give her a thorough petting and back massage.
She used to get really annoyed when I touched her whiskers; she’d twice her eyes and ears and turn away, flicking her tail. I can’t really blame her. I’d do the same if someone was messing with one of the most sensitive parts of my body without permission.
She slowly walked toward the wall. She was blind but she knew there was a wall there. How? By the stringy little whiskers flowing off her face. They brushed against the wall on the left side of her face.
they are great
cats. my best friend hayley. she looks like a cat. she has a cat. furry. tickle. uncomfortable. nuzzle, fuzzle, soft tingling touch. whiskers. i don’t like them.
it’s amazing to see how something grows through their whiskers. my dog rockaway stared out as a puppy with little smooth,slick, black whiskers. now as he has grown through the years youcan see the dark, slick black whiskers fade into a more gray, white color. i think it shows a sense of maturity. it shows his age and how he has grown into a beautiful dog. to me, he will always be the little puppy with those little whiskers going out fromevery direction.
whiskers are those cute little hairlike thingies on a cat or a dog or an animal’s face. often drawn in three sticks when drawing cats or dogs. :)))
It seemed as if the old man had whiskers just like the old tabby cat stretched across his legs. The man’s eyes began to drift shut, his skin of his old weathered stretched as his head nodded back against the headrest of the recliner.
I’m allergic to cats. I’m not sure if it’s their whiskers, their fur, their smell, the way the spring on you in the middle of the night when you’re on your way to get a drink of water, the way they don’t come when you call them like dogs do. Everytime I go to my aunt’s house in the city, I have to take a Benadryl so I don’t scratch my eyes out from itchiness. Only, I can’t swallow pills. So I have to bite the pill, and it numbs my tongue, and I fall asleep within ten minutes.
Tickling,
Feathering in graceful arc,
Parting the invisible air,
Twitching,
A sensor for forces unseen
whiskers. I think of Nemo, i think of catfish i think of being vegetarian and how much i love potatoes. Being vegetarian is such a beautiful cleansing thing, i would not be any different.
i think about how much cats are friends not foes and how happy i am when my kitties come and nap on me and cuddle me i love how sweet and loving they are. it also remind me of fish, the catfish and normal fish, this reminds me of finding nemo and how stupidly it helps me be vegetarian, not that i need the help.
Whiskiers is more like it. The ones who love it. Whiskey is a camping essential. But this is where you must be discerning and buy good quality. Otherwise you will get broke off by BroKers. Never fun.
the cat’s whiskers matched his pyjamas. the little tiny stripes on his pj’s mimicked the tiny whiskers jutting out from his furry cheeks. He looked so sweet. What a pity he was really an evil
If he had whiskers like a cat, maybe he would have sensed the danger before sticking his head in where it didn’t belong.
a place that has four ways
my dad has a face full of whiskers every evening and I always look forward to kissing him goodnight because while he pulls me in tight for a hug his whiskers scratch the soft skin of my cheeks and ruffle the damp tufts of hair hanging from my face. It’s a characteristic of his embrace I’ve come to appreciate and cherish.
my cat has whiskers . I have 4 cats that are a pain in the ass really , I don’t know if I will ever get rid of them … but anyhow I won’t be getting rid of one , my only & lovely cat , Gulfedan … she’s a black & white female cat. had her for 6 years now , maybe more not sure. but I love her so
Mixie scruffed his paw through his whiskers. His tail twitched, ready to pounce on the beautiful Zebra Swallowtail Butterfly. It fluttered around hypnotically through the spring grass. As a Feline-American, he believed it was his God-given right to appreciate beauty as he saw fit. By killing it.
were positioned all around the ethereal plane
like a mother’s bosom, the teats were hard with hair
brown fluctuations of light came from here bowels
her farts were subject to synesthesia,
I stared at my cat. Her yellow eyes pierced in mine. She was quiet, although it was clear she was begging me. For food.
the cat sat on the black hill, purring into its head. there is no hill dark enough to see what runs in its mind. i wouldn’t change places for the the world.
the cat’s whiskers twitched involuntarily. Its prey was nearby. Yes, the smell of fresh deer. My favorite prey, it thought. In a swift movement
The whiskers were sawying in the wind, intune with the gentle breezes blowing across the plain. The cat was treading across the plain, and although the tall grass covered its body, the moonlight gleamed off of its whiskers, causing it to add a sense of mysteriousness to the anonymous cat.
The whiskers of the small mammal twitched as he wriggled his nose. Anyone else would’ve been nervous in the same situation, but he was not.
She gave the thing buttermilk.
Butter-yellow droplets clung to the cat’s whiskers; its pink tongue lapped out, drank up the milk and licked its chops, showing off its pearl-white teeth.
The cat stretched and mewled under her hand. Helga Sinclair scratched its ear.
“Suppose you’ll be wanting more, hm, kitty?” she said lazily.
Ah, the melody. I hear it whisking through my window again, the curtains thrown wide, the sunlight bathing the hardwood beneath the sill. Alas, but for the cat resting thereupon, it would seem so sweet… But the devilish thing want’s naught but to steal my dignity.
this are the strange little whips that extend from the jowls of both cats and dogs. Even fish have them and use them for the same purpose.
“Hey you can’t go in there, jackass,” said the lady with the gruff voice, as our man attempted to enter the rear entrance to the brothel.
The man could have been polite and merely referred to the lady’s mustache as whiskers, but he had just finished up a bad day at work.
Butters, I secretly love your cute little whiskers, but you will never be better than my cat. I miss her so much.
Butters, You’re grounded.
Get away from me.
It’s not that I’m fake.
It’s not that I’m trying to hide who I am.
I love who I am.
I love every part about me.
I just like to wear cat masks…
… I like the whiskers.