Gray beginnings turned into a lovely afternoon.
The sinking Sun lit up a picturesque sky.
Evening light, that part of Spring and Summer I love.
As these reminders pop up, my nostalgia for Winter dissipates.
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It was another bad night with poor Toby.
This time I crawled bed unimpeded by Blackie who was sleeping on the other side. Perhaps I would have made it to the guest room unnoticed by Willow, but a floorboard creaked.
So I tried an evasive maneuver. We keep the laundry room door closed but the room previously served a different purpose and Willow used to get her medicine there, so she associates the room with reward.
As I progressed past the door, I opened it for my pursuers, but carried on into the guest room and climbed quickly into that bed.
.
Then I lay listening for complaints, imagining a cry of:
“Dirty trick!”
Though I heard only the tiniest protest as Willow retreated to the other end of the house.
Remembering my theory about cats reading our thoughts, I forced myself to think of other things and eventually I dozed, rewarded by an unpleasant dream.
.
Repercussions.
There always are with cats and although much of it is self-flagellation, some of it is very real.
Willow is clearly unsettled today and in need of reassurance.
It doesn’t help that my house cleaner is here today which of course puts us in an uproar. So mending fences has to wait.
Toby appears to have taken himself out of the way downstairs so I don’t yet know if I have offended him.
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Which is what I meant about self-flagellation. Cats don’t get offended. At least not in human terms.
Years ago, Panther was my “main man”. He was my buddy. He slept on my bed. Another cat who was also very precious, but less senior was inclined to be more pushy than Panther.
Previously, I said cats don’t allow closed doors, but in that house those cats had other corners they preferred, with the exception of Panther and Tim. They could have chosen left and right, but it doesn’t work that way.
One night I decided Panther should have quality time, so I closed my door. Next morning Tim was in deep distress and within hours he was gone.
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It wasn’t the closed door that caused it, of course. It was his poor little flat face. There was no clue that anything was wrong. In this last photograph of him he looked as always.
But I would give anything to take back that night.
To say I was gutted is putting it mildly.
Thimphu was so special. Just in a different way to Panther. He was always totally laid back about everything and my imagining that he was ‘hurt’, is just that, imagination. Beating myself up.
.
How many times can a heart shatter?
How many animals have I known?
That’s how many times.
Would I choose a life without them?
Never.
.
Enough.
Here we are at the rapidly flowing Battenkill River, swollen by the recent melt.
On the right a railroad bridge, unused for many years.
Bridges are another of my things. I love them, old, new, big small.
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As we walked the short distance to the river bank, Grant noticed evidence of beaver activity.
There were several small trees similarly gnawed, but no sign of the beaver or his dam!
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There was a sad single Birkenstock.
How do you abandon one sandal?
Broken or otherwise.
Take them with you, slob.
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But there was a item of greater interest.
Can you spot it?
My close-up isn’t very good.
In glaring light, it is hard for me to focus.
Or should I say harder.
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People here are keen on fishing, but bringing your office chair to the event would seem a little extreme.
Do you suppose the chair and shoe are related?
Ownership thereof, I mean.
.
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Well I did say not to get too excited.
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Stripes.
Or lines.
They are everywhere.
And rows of dots.
It is a mathematical universe, after all.
.
See what I mean.
You cannot avoid them.
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We got back in the car and crossed the river.
Flying saucer house?
It always fascinates me how certain surfaces catch the light.
And empty roads speak to me.
With their ubiquitous center stripes…
An oncoming car changes the message.
But I haven’t yet decided how.
Not offended.
Thank you, Carolyn, for the beautiful sky pictures, and a bit of philosophical musing.
Joanna
Dirty, inconsiderate humans strike again!
Thimphu was gorgeous! It’s always heart wrenching to lose a part of the family and pets are exactly this…
I have the same fascination with roads, especially quiet ones.
Hope all is OK with you and thank you for sharing your lovely photos and words.
See, even though you know cats think differently than us humans and have their own set of rules … it still feels like you’re hurting their feelings. It’s just once again proof of how much you care for animals. No ways, an office chair … how? Maybe the sandal got washed away by the river while he/she sat on the chair … but still …
I think pets can appear to be offended, but only because we impose our own sensibilities on their expressions. I have never wanted to go fishing, but a chair like that one might make it more enjoyable.
Best wishes, Pete.
I was taken fishing once. First of all I was afraid of sailboats. Secondly that day there was a swell and I felt sick and mostly when I caught a small fish I felt awful about it. So that was that!
I would love a day’s fishing – providing I wasn’t expected to catch fish…
The red and pink sky is so amazing 💕💞.