Happy Baturday, Gerbil Nation!
Good morning, Sven!
Teh Older and I are weeding the back slope at Casa du Furnijur. There are a literal metric carp-tonne of weeds that need to be pulled, hacked, sprayed, etc. I’m glad I’ve got some help.
Jack Tatum uses three steps on the back porch wall of our house to climb up to the second floor balcony. There’s a cat door in the patio screen door for him to get in and out as he chooses. The steps I built for him are each about a foot and half long and eight inches wide, staggered with about two feet up the wall in between. When he was younger, he had no problem going up and down and the setup has kept other critters -- like coons -- from using them. Once he hits the top step, he can stretch from there and go through the balcony fence slat and he’s home.
I’ve been worried about him using them as he seems to be not as limber as he used to be -- he’s nine years old now -- and I began thinking about making changes to help him. One thing I added was a short wooden stool to the side of the lowest to step make that jump easier. Helping him has been on my mind at least until about 3:00 this morning.
So I wake up to some weird noise. First I think it’s mice in the walls. I listen some more to figure out where it’s coming from -- not the walls or ceilings -- it sounds like it’s coming from downstairs. I listen some more and decide, damn it, I have to get up and look. Get my flashlight and start to go downstairs. There on the landing is Tatum with a fairly large dead rabbit and he’s contentedly eating its head. I chase him off and he doesn’t fuss and I get gloves, a bag, paper towels, cleaning solution and begin cleaning up. The landing has been his kill-eating spot of choice since forever, but he hasn’t brought home a kill in a couple of years.
This rabbit weighs a good few pounds -- even without most of its head -- and is about a third of the size of the cat. I figure if he can navigate those steps with this thing in his mouth, then they are still usable.
If Tatum could talk, being a cat, he’d probably say he found the rabbit inside the house and was just protecting us followed with “Look at me. Look at the rabbit. Do you REALLY believe I could have leaped from step to step with that beast in my mouth? I’m shocked that you would think so.”
Thread pic: More nightmares and I already don’t sleep well.
Weekend blessings, GN.
Happy Baturday, Gerbil Nation!
Good morning, Sven!
Teh Older and I are weeding the back slope at Casa du Furnijur. There are a literal metric carp-tonne of weeds that need to be pulled, hacked, sprayed, etc. I’m glad I’ve got some help.
A cat tale.
Jack Tatum uses three steps on the back porch wall of our house to climb up to the second floor balcony. There’s a cat door in the patio screen door for him to get in and out as he chooses. The steps I built for him are each about a foot and half long and eight inches wide, staggered with about two feet up the wall in between. When he was younger, he had no problem going up and down and the setup has kept other critters -- like coons -- from using them. Once he hits the top step, he can stretch from there and go through the balcony fence slat and he’s home.
I’ve been worried about him using them as he seems to be not as limber as he used to be -- he’s nine years old now -- and I began thinking about making changes to help him. One thing I added was a short wooden stool to the side of the lowest to step make that jump easier. Helping him has been on my mind at least until about 3:00 this morning.
So I wake up to some weird noise. First I think it’s mice in the walls. I listen some more to figure out where it’s coming from -- not the walls or ceilings -- it sounds like it’s coming from downstairs. I listen some more and decide, damn it, I have to get up and look. Get my flashlight and start to go downstairs. There on the landing is Tatum with a fairly large dead rabbit and he’s contentedly eating its head. I chase him off and he doesn’t fuss and I get gloves, a bag, paper towels, cleaning solution and begin cleaning up. The landing has been his kill-eating spot of choice since forever, but he hasn’t brought home a kill in a couple of years.
This rabbit weighs a good few pounds -- even without most of its head -- and is about a third of the size of the cat. I figure if he can navigate those steps with this thing in his mouth, then they are still usable.
Cats -- just when you think they need your help, they pull something like that.
You’re a Good Gerbil, Sven.
If Tatum could talk, being a cat, he’d probably say he found the rabbit inside the house and was just protecting us followed with “Look at me. Look at the rabbit. Do you REALLY believe I could have leaped from step to step with that beast in my mouth? I’m shocked that you would think so.”
Bummer. I missed the big “hands off” protests today.
“Hands off” -- I think they have a messaging problem. Is this a “me too” protest? Pro-choice? Something that doesn’t really fit with “hands off”?