Just enough sunlight leaked through this morning to cut a stripe on the hill across the way, so of course I abandoned the washing up and went outside. Only to be accosted by:
Actually, that’s not quite right.
In fact, I noticed him on top of the sumac bush, fishing for I wasn’t sure what, but when I opened the door a sparrow flew off.
His Nibbs was happy enough to abandon the hunt, knowing kibble would be forthcoming.
He has us all worked out. Each of us can be conned out of two helpings of kibble, so when he was done with me he trotted off round the corner and hit on Grant.
Two more helpings and the boy was off down the driveway
But it turned out to be one of Lily’s walk-a-bout days.
And soon the man was out there calling her, which brought the lad rushing back.
“Me?” he said “are you calling me?”
So Grant decided the boy’s name must be Billy.
(I suspect he’d come no matter what you called.)
A most unwelcome call came yesterday afternoon, from the far end of the house (reachable in about 6 steps!):
“Something’s wrong with Muffin!”
She was lying on the bare floor looking limp.
A cat being unwell creates two situations.
Fortunately, in this case we were able to establish with cautious triage, that there was no immediate cause for concern.
A great relief, primarily for our pussycat, but also as it prevented the second situation from arising…
Panic: “OMG! What should we do?”
Actually, I am rather better at this than Grant. I save up all the anxiety and fretting for after.
Who’s to say what’s better?
Muffin merely had a “loose” tummy.
She was probably only upset about the slight mess it made of her bottom. She thanked me but said she would deal with it herself, thank you very much.
Cats are very fastidious.
In situations with wild animals, I am the one who goes to bits and Grant has had to deal with some very upsetting circumstances.
We had not been here very long when a wild turkey somehow flew into the house, mortally injuring itself. Clearly it needed to be euthanized promptly but these are very large birds.
Even if I could have caught it, which is unlikely, I should not have been able to kill it,
The following summer we had rabid raccoons that Grant had to shoot.
He hates doing it, but he has the mental strength for it.
Even if I could manage a gun, I don’t believe I could pull the trigger.
What it amounts to, I suppose, is that people have different strengths.
Wild turkeys are so beautiful.
Their little family groupings are so sweet.
Male turkeys wooing the ladies is quite a display.
Last time they were here, they left a feather.
To add to my collection.
I have always loved feathers.
Especially on birds.