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.
Hope Muffin’s tummy is soon back to normal. It is very disconcerting for a pussy cat when hoomans are messing about with their nether regions!
Thank you, Carolyn, for your interesting post. I will read it more tomorrow.
Joanna
His Nibs (or is it Billy?) is quite clever … finding all possible manners of getting access to kibbles! That photo where he looks straight into the camera … I would give him everything in the fridge 😄. Your last photo is my favourite today – the sky looks as if it was painted.
I killed a wood pigeon that I found on Beetley meadows. It was crawling along with its intestines showing, and I suspected it had been dropped by a buzzard or similar. I put my dog-walking stick across its neck and stood on it. The neck broke very easily. I thought it was the best thing to do.
Best wishes, Pete.
Yes it’s hard to see an animal suffer . I hope I would have been able to do as you did . I am always afraid of messing up and making things worse.
The feather is so beautiful ❤️💕💞