Aggression versus Sunshine

(Today was cold and mostly gloomy, so by way of antidote, I bring you a conversation I had with Mollie a couple of weeks ago.)

*****

Goodness! What sharp claws you have, Mollie-Cat!

The better to shred you with, my dear!

(Or shred the love seat at least.)

Right after my nap...

my nap in the warm, lovely sunshine...zzzzzzzz...

Millie's Dust Bath

Millie: There’s nothing like a warm dust bath on a sunny day...

...even if I do have to keep an eye on that jumpy little dog the whole time.

Yup. Nothin' like a good dust bath. 

Luna & Millie: Will they ever be friends?

It's been fun to watch Luna and Millie get to know each other and negotiate their boundaries - of both personal space and physical territory. To my surprise, Millie often follows Luna and me when we ramble around the yard. Luna was quite pleased the first time this happened.

Luna: Oh, boy! Oh, boy! Oh, boy! Millie! Millie! Millie! Did you come out to play with me? Didja? Didja? Didja? Huh? Huh? Huh? 

Millie: Wha...?

Luna: We're gonna have so much fun! 

Millie: Fight or flight? Fight or flight? And which direction shall I run?

Both: Hey....what's the neighbor dog barking about? 
Millie: Is it danger?
Luna: Is it someone to play with?
Both: Is it headed our way?

Both: Hey, what happened to the pinky? Hurry up, slowpoke!

Luna: Something smells interesting over here...

Millie: Good. Go away. Then I'll have the pinky all to myself again. Stupid interloper. 

A Sure Sign of Spring . . .

even in Central Oregon—the cat’s been rolling in the dirt!

Neighbor Cat

I went for a little walk today and saw one of the neighbor cats. 

She looked so nice against that green background that I stopped to snap a few pictures. 

When she realized I was taking pictures of her, she decided to come say hello and let me get a close-up.

She was going to come right over the fence! 

Then she heard a few more people walking up the road . . . and a dog.

Maybe I'll just hang out here for a while . . . 

She was still there half an hour later when I passed by on my way home. 

Smart choice, pumpkin.

Cats Are So Weird

Cats are so weird sometimes.

Millie had followed me outside—she’s sociable and nosy and bossy, so she wanted to supervise whatever I was doing out there.

Evidently the bottom of the grandkid’s slide made a very good perch for monitoring the critter making a bunch of noise out by the shed. I couldn’t tell from the sound whether it was a bird or a rodent, but Millie wasn’t coming in until she finished observing it. Or supervising it. Or perhaps eventually stalking it. 

She was very focused, whatever she was doing. 

So I took her picture and left her to her it.

Cats are so weird sometimes. 

Family Cat

I went for a walk today and met this fine fellow on my way home. His family had zipped by a couple minutes earlier (kids on bikes, mom jogging). When I’d seen him in the distance, trotting after them and falling behind, I thought he must be a little dog.

Nope.

Safe travels, little cat. 

Kitties Missed Us

I love going on trips, and I love coming home. I love coming home to my own home, my own bed, my own kitchen . . . and my cats. 

Our son Wes (who's 22) took good care of Millie and Mollie while we were gone, although you'd never know that to hear them tell it.

What?

Not enough lap time?

He didn't maintain your feeding schedule of smelly food at precisely 4:30 p.m. every day?

He set your tail on fire how many times? 

Oh, my . . . 

As far as Mollie was concerned, things did not improve once we arrived home. It was less than a week before Halloween. Because Mollie's been known to disappear for days at a time, we decided to keep both cats inside until after the festivities. 

*sigh*

You're never, ever going to let me go outside ever, ever again, are you?

I didn't think so.

Poor kitties. I don't think they understand the concept of later.

Our other cat, Millie, could hardly wait until I sat down and put my feet up so that she could sprawl along the full length of my legs.

Comfy there, Millie?

Gee, if only I could be certain that she's relaxed . . . contented . . . sleeping well . . . feeling loved and pampered . . . 

Little cat feet! 

Somehow that's not quite what I picture when I read Sandburg's poem.