Friday, January 12th, 2024
I am grateful that tonight worked out. Today, as we and most of the country endured a significant cold snap, my teenager kitties decided to mostly stay inside and sleep. I kept encouraging them to run around, in the bright sun, and they kept coming in — with predictable results.
Meow. Meow. ME-ow. ME-ow! MEOW!!!
Kitties, and small to medium dogs, are generally referred to as owl or coyote snacks, when running around after sunset. Bad scene. We even lock the gates outside the doggy door, so our Boston Terrier doesn’t become a 45 second evisceration victim, and now that Hobbes (our boy kitty) had discovered the doggy door, it gets shut up entirely around sunset.
This is why our last kitty never ended up on a Missing Kitty / Coyote Snack poster at our local vet or pet store. So, we’ve got our rules. And, Hobbes has his needs.
Meow. Meow. ME-ow. ME-ow! MEOW!!!
At first, I offered them some food, as a distraction.
Meow. Meow. ME-ow. ME-ow! MEOW!!!
Then, I babbled at my cats, half-laughing, half-annoyed & entirely ineffective.
Meow. Meow. ME-ow. ME-ow! MEOW!!!
Out a strong sense of self-preservation, I got creative.
The chances of the local coyote pack coming on the property (5 fenced acres) while a human was wandering around, making noise, and flashing her headlamp all over the place — is low. Plus, I had to lock up the chickens. So, I dressed up nice and warm and off we went!
We all get the idea of walking the dog.
Especially if we live in the city, or a suburb, and the dog has been home alone all day. But, who really walks their cat?
Maybe my story is a testament to the power of my kitty’s verbal harassment skills?
Thankfully, I am not cold weather averse.
Thankfully, the chickens still needed to be put away.
Thankfully, we haven’t heard the coyote pack for a few weeks.
Thankfully, the kitties don’t tend to wander too far from the house.
And, thankfully, I like to stay busy.
For the past hour and a half, I have been whacking away at my raspberry bed in our very large garden (with a tall deer fence which makes it even more safe to be outside in the dark), while my kitties have dashed and climbed, explored and murdered (voles, it turns out, are quite squeaky while dying) to their hearts’ content!
Now, about 1/4 of my raspberries are weeded, cut back, old canes were removed entirely and I reclaimed the gradually disappearing pathway through the middle of the bed — all while keeping an eye on two, moving, glowing pairs of eyes glittering like starlight on a deep, moonless night.
To bring them in, I shook their food bags, and now, they’re crashed out on my bed with Dobby (who stayed inside while all the crazy people were out in the 17 degree weather).