I am old and gray and a little bit wounded. The friends and allies I am seeking still have all their strength and agility and yet one must go. It has been written! The one who is going definitely won't like it but will be ever so much happier, in time. Ordinarily I move through the house closing off doors and rooms and limiting the getaway space. Can't do it today. Both of my friends and allies need clear access to the basement for now and they both really begin to suspect something is in the offing if I close the doors to the second floor bedrooms. The hours between now and 1130 will be frought and I'll never get either one if he goes into the basement.
The one I need is the mighty hunter of late and last night paraded around with a mouse in his mouth. No no, we keep a good house but it's almost four million years old and there are cracks and crevices although I have made an extra special effort to make sure no more damned bats fly in and land on me.
I snared Hobbes with zero trouble this morning and threw him in the bag. He didn't like the snaring and throwing part but once in the bag became his normal self and settled in for a nap while I drove him to Lakewood where a very nice lady and her mother worked for 2 solid hours to shave the mats off him. He is once again half the cat he used to be but way happier since he can lie down without pain or soreness. He's off to the vets next but he doesn't know it. I hid the usual catnapping gear when I got home where he can't see it and every time it reappears both of them are eager to explore it, sleep in it and claim it as their own. They are really easy to snare. I offered Anne Bonney that maybe what we should do is just rub him down with Nair every week. She was not amused. Neither was Hobbes.
The mats on Hobbes spring into existance when we leave town for travel and leave the care of the two to either my relatives or friends, all of whom are most excellent cat people. When we come back we find a cat we left in perfect health matted to a fare-thee-well.
One of us will undoubtedly post pictures of the two of them, in the fullnes of time, or after breakfast.
I used to have to shave Thomasina, my long haired calico. She was a mighty huntress, but she liked to do her hunting among evergreen shrubs.ReplyDelete
She would come and flop down in front of me, to let me know that the sap induced matting had become uncomfortable.
I found it interesting that the colors of 'Sina's fur, were duplicated on her skin, where her fur was gray, she was gray, brown/brown, etc.
My first all white cat kept bringing in rabbits and birds when I lived in Newport and now that I think about it he was like all the boat unit commanders who kept calling and emailing me asking me to know where they could find the approved cammo for their very bright and shiny patrol boats I was sending them and I was always like, 'dude, they're supposed to see you and be deterred. Stop thinking you're SPECWAR guys."Delete
Needless to say, it didn't work. Give a guy some machine guns and a boat and instantly you are dealing Rambo.