Every morning, I greet the feline contingent of the Pet Hostel. For our own reasons, we do not have cats in the house, but in a sense, they have their own house. When I do the last bed check/head count late at night, which includes our pet guests and our own family pets, I make a mental note whether Sam, Smokey and Davy are “in or out”. Sometimes one or two of the cats are waiting at the kennel building door to come in for the night. Occasionally one seems “out for the night” or leaves when I open the door. They can hunt all night if they wish: I just try to keep track of when they were last seen by me. I don’t install a cat door, because if I have a boarding cat who escapes its kennel (rare occurrence) or is allowed to roam around in the building, it would be too easy to leave.
More often than not, the three “lifers” are loafing on any flat surface in the building, and they don’t quarrel very much at all, so sometimes they are even together on a shelf, windowsill, countertop, or grooming table.
When Shelly was visiting last week, I remarked to her that dear Smokey is the only one of our cats who looks me in the eye when I pet her. The other two, Sam and Davy, are affectionate, but seem preoccupied with other thoughts when getting attention. I know they are enjoying it, because they’re purring and lingering, just not meeting my gaze.
One night I heard Gary chuckling from the bedroom … hmmm? I found him watching as Davy stalked a raven. Perhaps the raven thought he was stalking the cat. Eventually, the bird simply flew off.
I’ve not only been thinking about our own three cats, but some who are “no longer with us”. Most of these have grown old and died peacefully.
I have hundreds of pet pictures on this computer, but I’m lax about labelling and sometimes can’t find the photos I want. I hope you enjoy the ones I “fetched”.
I spent all morning and part of the afternoon trying to sort photos on the Mac’s Photo Program. I wish that, when I group photos together, they would disappear from the central library and reside only in the organized folders, such as “Juno” or “Linden” or “Pets”, for example. I deleted 1000 crappy pictures. Probably I moved or labelled 2000 more, out of the 12,000 plus. There are some mysteries: photos that I would have loved to have forever are somehow “Not Available” and though there is a thumbnail for these, there seems no valid version. There are duplicates, too. It’s tedious work.
Other than that particular struggle, I ended up fairly agitated today for another reason. I told people who asked Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and today that I would be home for them to pick up items I have for sale. Most people simply did not show up. I do get more done when I don’t nip into town for coffee or shopping, but I need to ask people to be more specific. “Are you going to be home all day?” is an honest question, and it’s up to me to tell them if there are errands I must run.
Eventually, I did get in the car and go to Welcome Home, where Kevin made a beautiful ‘London Fog’ (tea latté) which soothed my ruffled feathers.
Earlier this week I was fairly “ruffled” when I heard that Rose was telling townsfolk that I put rat poison in her house when she was in hospital this spring, in order to kill her dogs. FFS! For two months, I kept her dogs at the Pet Hostel for no charge (because that was what she could afford). I was aware that she felt the dogs had lost weight, and they had, even while eating all they wanted, just not macaroni and wieners, etc.. Those dogs are beautiful souls, and I cared for them like my own. And do you know what? Before that, she had blamed me for the old house having “13 mice”. Some thanks I get, just more vicious innuendo and rumour.
Tomorrow is another day … Sunday! If folks need the items that they spoke for, they will show up. I really don’t have to be anywhere else, and there’s no place I’d rather be.