the garden

Rainbows in whiskers

Resting

sunbathing

It's all about the tail

cats

Our girl Lucy's curls. and eyebrows. and my crocs.

Are they the secret of her phenomonal hearing?
She appears out of nowhere when i walk in with
a glass of seltzer.
the sound of popping bubbles mystifies her, still.
(the old Android phone given to me to play with
seems to have a better camera when i compare
this shot with the one of Phyllis in the previous post)

This is Buddy, at Greenwood
who sleeps in the potting shed
and is eager to be let out every morning
(have i shown this one to you before?)

Lucy has very sharp eyes, too

And this is dear ol' Spike
who has been living with us
and in my heart
for 20+ years.
he still loves to lie on my chest
and puts up with the camera...
just.

His whiskers have turned white
as my hair has turned grey.
and his eyes are greener than this in real life
but the old phone's camera doesn't correct very well.
That's okay.
i shall treasure this one nonetheless.
P.S.
He may be just a "bag o' bones" these days
but he still has the voice
you know, a YeOoOwWL
that says, "Somewhere in my family tree
is a very fine, royal family of Siamese, if you please!
So feed me. Now!"
And he gets all the treats he wants...

Hmm, let's see...

where was i?
i keep visiting with all of you
in my head
and i have dozens and dozens of photos i want to share
and, then
something waylays me

and

i have football brain
and go from
oh! i need to share this fabulous cookie with you all
over in that other neglected blog
to

i want to change my banner
but
hmmm
to what?

and then i hear chocolate calling my name
or a cat meowing from the sink
or
the air outside is so lusciously delicious
or
i get lazy
and the first thing you know
weeks go by and you have no idea
that i want to show you stuff
even though i have nothing worth saying
it seems

but
i decide it's high time for some self discipline
so
i sit myself down
and, whaddya know
i can't find the pictures!

so
now my head hurts
after going through folder after folder
(Ha! that's what you get for feeling
so organized with all your photofolderoverkill)
and all i can think to say is this

in my next life
i want to be a loved cat

with beautiful ear curls
that facilitate exceptional hearing

except
of course
when it storms
and OH NO IS IRENE BACK??
and i have to run under the tub
until it's all over
and apparantly she isn't
and i'm still here
wearing lovely stripes on my legs

with silly humans
who throw paper all over the floor for me to play in
and a silly brother

and the mysterious Spike
who never comes downstairs.

Until then
i will go find some more chocolate
and a big glass of water
breathe some fine fall air
and come back
soon
to find those photos
and share that cookie.
Soon.
yes, it's true.
Watch this space!

 

It just isn't fair

Junior is not pleased
and wants to know why it is
that i can be so chubby
and eat whenever i wish
and he cannot.

Poor Junior
When we adopted him
we were used to setting out a bowl of dry food every morning
and letting the fur balls graze, as needed.
He thought this was fantastic
and gobbled up every morsel
instantly.
Every morning noon or night
and ballooned into a...
well...a
big fat grey and white kitty balloon.

Lucy
who is a grazer
would love it if her meals could be a leisurely affair
but she does find it convenient to let
Junior shoulder most of the wheedling.

One of these times, i must capture an image of her paws*

She won't look at me
but she's sure listening to my every move

and i just love her ears

 

*They are huge
and furry
and pretty, in their own way

 

P.S.
It's raining again!
i'm beginning to believe it's safe to say the drought could be over...
However, i must also report
that dear little Lucy must still have vivid
frightening memories of Hurricane Irene
(she was seperated from her first humans, forever
during that storm, and it was several weeks before she was rescued
and then adopted by us)
because she senses when a big thunderstorm is pending
and disappears.
i finally discovered her
after the second big one that came through
huddled in the gritty and cobwebby corner behind the furnace.
She waits a good long while after the last
faraway rumbles subside before she
rejoins us...with a very worried and tentative look in her eyes.
And, then
if it's not time for dinner or breakfast
she gets a few treats
and lots and lots of hugs.

He's a Good Boy

and used to be a man about town.
Now that he is 18
a bit arthritic and slower
he sticks close to home.

His mom (the human one)
who loves puns and colorful woven rugs
named him Ikat.

She likes to travel.
A lot.
Which is a blessing to me and other friends
who love to live with her cats
in the cottage and garden
next to the creek
that runs from the island to the sea.

But Ikat did not appreciate her wandering off so often
so
he took to the road, too.
It broke his mom's heart the first time she returned home
to find him missing.
She rejoiced when he sauntered back into her life
many weeks later
looking fine--only to fret yet again
when he walked out one day
and did not come home that night
or the next...
Again, several weeks passed
and then, one evening
she heard the slap of the cat flap
and his distinctive, baritone voice
meowing to be fed.

The next year
while Ikat had once again gone missing
neighbors alerted her that they had seen
a grey and white cat on the other side of the village.
It took her several days, but she finally found him
happy, healthy and sitting in another garden.

She knocked on the door
met the family and, with them, put 2 & 2 together:
Ikat had wandered into their lives
adopted them and another name: Bob.
They clearly loved him, too
and had also felt deeply distressed
every time he disappeared
only to rejoice again
when he returned.

And so it continued
for four or five years
the two families sharing the big, handsome boy
until Ikat-Bob grew older and stiff with arthritis.

Now, he likes staying close to home
with his first human mom
and seems to have accepted the fact that, from time to time
she still goes away
but invites live-in friends to keep him company
while he spends most of each day
sleeping on down comforters in the sun
until his stomach wakes him.
Then, he comes to find you
and sits
boring holes through you with his bright gold eyes

and escorts you
to the food bowl

i love living with Ikat
and that he seems to like living with me
until him mom gets back home.

Offerings

violets and one bright blue, pinkish-tan, and soft green egg
from the Ladies of Greenwood
inspected by the "Easter Buddy"
of course

He approved