Just a few months back, my house was silent. Morning consisted of a dull routine. This morning I opened my eyes to this.
Lil’ Red is always bringing me toys, Moe wants to cuddle, Princess sings constantly, and the kittens just want to play. Boring mornings are a thing of the past!
Note: Princess is the first singing cat I’ve ever known. Her little “Purrup, meow, purrups” go on all day in a never ending song. Moe and Red sing a little, but with Princess the concert never ends.
Well, the kids are back early, and they are regretting it. Usually the Red-winged Blackbirds return to our area in great flocks sometime in April, but yesterday as I was attempting to capture bird photos through the snowflakes, I caught sight of two pairs. (You never realize how irritating snowflakes are until you try taking photos in a snowstorm.) These gung-ho youngsters obviously decided their fuddy-duddy elders were being too cautious and struck out on their own. One bird still had his baby tufts.
Sorry, kids. We’re having a second winter up here.
By: The Gentleman Cat
Make yourself available.
Always use the litter box.
Treat their other pets with dignity.
Be there to comfort.
Catch lots of mice…. whoops, you mean I wasn’t supposed to eat them?
Make ’em laugh.
Put up with anything.
And finally… Don’t eat the bird. (I think they’re trying to fatten it up for Thanksgiving…. It isn’t working.)
May your days be filled with polite kitties that don’t scratch up your furniture or barf on your carpets,
Gent, The Gentleman Cat
I have ended up a pet parent again. Puff, one of our community’s many wild cats has determined that my family is his family, and that my yard and porch are his home. He’s quite a cat… wild… mean… .loving… gentle… tame… skittish… completely unpredictable, and quite determined that he lives here.
Ever notice how a cat gives you that “Ask me if I care?” look when you catch it someplace it’s not allowed to be? I found this troublesome, little furball sitting with my antique books. I told her to get down. She told me to get lost. Oh, the joys of owning a cat … Correction: Oh, the joys of being owned by a cat!
Meet Shorty. No, he’s not one of my cats. He’s the little guy whose butt is sticking up in the center of my photo. Shorty is a two-year old American gray squirrel.
First Trip to the Feeder
Bold as a cougar, and almost as mean, this little guy has been frequenting my bird feeder since his Mama Squirrel first brought him to the windowsill as a tiny ball of fluff.
Just stopping by to say hello!
I’ve watched him grow from a frightened baby on his first excursion from the nest, to a clumsy teenager, to an active adult, and now I am watching him grow old. Dubbed “Shorty” because he lost a substantial portion of his once long tail, presumably in one of his many brawls, this battle-scarred, old squirrel rules the feeder now that his mama is gone. The other squirrels stay away until Shorty is finished eating if they know what is good for them. Even the quickest of birds keep their distance rather than dart in behind him, as is their habit with the other squirrels. My old cats sleep on the windowsill. Shorty doesn’t care. The young cat lunges forward in attack and slams her face against the glass (I never said she was smart.) Shorty doesn’t even drop his sunflower seed, and this photographer can call his name, knock on the window, and stamp on the floor, and Shorty will not turn around! This shot probably would have ended up framed and on my wall had I actually managed to get something other than a squirrel’s butt nestled in between my cats. Maybe next time.
- He finally turned around, but the cats had gone.