With age - she's about sixteen years old - my cat is beginning to resemble Garfield more and more each day. Just look at the pic. 8 a.m. I open the front door and there she is. Her eyes half closed, she turns to me in disapproval.
"Look at this guy. What does he think he's doing? He's been following me all morning. I couldn't get inside the house, so I'm keepin' the front door behind my back.. and he's been sittin' here looking at me for ages! No way I'm having any of it!"
I don't know what to make of this attitude because he must be about fifteen years her junior and he's very handsome.. I mean I'd go for it. I call him Tiger because he's young, striped and really bouncy. Fearless, too. He ignores people appearing near him and will even approach you if his curiosity is aroused. We already played chasing the end of a stick in the grass a couple of times and he let me briefly touch his head. Below you see him preparing to jump at my cat the moment she leaves the safe cover of the front door behind her to satisfy thirst from the nearby bowl of water.
Will you go out with me, pretty?
Oh, shucks! She moved! Ain't that butt just lovely?
Move away - lemme aim!
Oh, I'm so gonna show her...
Next, he jumps! The funny part is that he misses most of the time, so all I get to see is a spectacularly high jump followed by a loud landing about two feet behind her, and then my cat hissing and chasing him. He runs and she follows! Man, I wish I had the camera on, but it all happens too quickly.
Three weeks ago. The early stages of figuring out how to approach her - hiding in the flowerbed, next to a huge catmint plant.
I have no idea where he lives but I believe he doesn't have a home. He's such a funny and healthy young fellow that he made me think about actually giving him one.
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