A kitchen window was ajar and I caught the calls of geese approaching from across the valley.
It was a large flock so I grabbed the camera and went outside to watch as they came overhead.
As always there were two tail-end Charlies.
Somebody has to be last.
After dawn, the day turned a little grey.
But not yet wet, so the walkers shot out.
And because I’d gone to watch the geese, I got involved in the daily cat round-up.
Often, Lily does a runner.
Yesterday when Grant caught up with her, she charged off down a storm drain.
But today she was sitting on the porch.
Vocal resistance only this morning.
She promptly sits in a window to stare back out.
“Why can’t we have a cat-flap?”
Lily longs for free access to the outdoors all day.
But there are just too many dangers out there.
As it is, I am always nervous when the cats go out.
If you have ever had an indoor-outdoor cat that disappeared, you will understand my neurosis.
My first feline friend had been given freedom to come and go. I “inherited” him along with the apartment I took over.
After his first disappearance which was over the Christmas holidays, I tried to keep him in and during that cold winter he was content.
But in the spring he was desperate to go back out and reluctantly I let him have his way, saying a mental goodbye each time I opened the door.
It’s awful not knowing the fate of a beloved pet.
Muffin was busy exploring the groundhog hole.
But everyone was sleeping.
She took off while Lily was being rounded up.
So Grant went one way and I went the other.
Muffin hadn’t gone far.
She was on the patio looking at the wild pansies that are flourishing against the odds.
Dee Dee hove into view, in a tearing hurry.
“Coming! Keep that door open!”
“He’s my person!”
Dee Dee is very possessive.
And very self-confident.
She’s a major mouser and is the self-appointed quartermaster.
She inspects the kitchen cupboards regularly to take inventory.
Tinkerbelle seems to have recovered from her moon-madness.
Yesterday she was a firecracker.
Tinks has never liked me but we have an uneasy truce. I can sometimes tickle her head.
Yesterday she swore at me just for talking to her!
But one should never take offense.
Blackie was shocked.
“You can’t speak to my person like that!”
“You can buzz off too!”
Happily, I am back in Lucy’s good graces.
Though she still has that knot.
Toby is getting a small amount of pain medicine and a tiny pill for his digestion. Grant administers it but the poor boy struggles.
At what point does the medication become counter-productive?
How can you tell if your cat is feeling less pain?
Every morning when Toby comes to pull my hair and when he parks his bum on my keyboard, I just stroke his head and enjoy having him close.
While I still can.