Monday, August 13, 2012


Willow, a mild-mannered little cat, is the target of Mrs. Beasley's un-ending and inexplicable wrath.
This ire is expressed with smacks, thumpings, growls and hisses.
[We think Mrs. B. is having a nervous breakdown.]
Willow responds by squalling loudly and running.

Storm clouds have hovered all day but the rain has 'gone around' us.
Pehaps the uneasy weather can be blamed for the crochety disposition of the cats today.
Willis can--and does--chase Willow, but in a rather lack-a-daisical, recreational manner, quite different to Mrs. B.'s attitude of closing in for a kill.
Once Willow is outside, the big 'house cats' can't nail her as she hops lightly over the cat yard fence, something they haven't attempted.

I never had a tree house.
Although I'm rather stupid about heights, I did--in my day--like to climb trees.
[OK, so I didn't go way up!]
One of my favorite spots to sit, swing my legs and have a quiet think, was an old apple tree in the remnant of neglected orchard at Grampa Mac's.  I could go along the road to the farm house, through the gate and down to the apple trees--or--I could take the path that curved along the embankment where my parents' house stood and reach the cluster of gnarly, unpruned trees by that route.
The special apple tree had a wide flattened branch which grew horizontally about 4 feet off the ground.  It was an easy clamber up to sit among the leaves.

I looked longingly at Willow in her box elder refuge this morning. All it needs is a ladder up to a small platform--just wide enough to place a folded old quilt.  Then, why not a book, a cat, and a mug of tea, all to be enjoyed in a shelter of green leaves [?]


  1. Your Willow is just like our Sheba/Estelle/Misery Guts/Grey Thing stray!!! Right down to the eye makeup.

    Glad she is out of Mrs B's way. Things don't sound to be improving there, sadly. Our Sheba doesn't tolerate any of the other cats, and hisses and swears at them if they come near her. She likes me, and is often in my office with me (currently sat on the rug by my chair).

  2. "All it needs is a ladder up to a small platform--just wide enough to place a folded old quilt. Then, why not a book, a cat, and a mug of tea, all to be enjoyed in a shelter of green leaves?"

    This sounds like the beginning of a wonderful story!

  3. I'm also afraid of heights, but your description of a quilt, tea, a book and sweet Willis sounds heavenly.

  4. I have several who are bossy, and several who scream when someone just looks at them. It is the most awful blood curdling screams a cat can make...especially when you are asleep and hear that in the middle of the night.
    A tree sounds pretty good, and a hide a way from the world.
    Have a wonderful week

  5. I'm with you, a fear of heights, but in the day I liked to climb trees too.

  6. That last shot captures a wonderful feline expression.
    We have the odd cats that really do not get on at all ...and even fur has flown.... I dont know why ...worse when weather is predicting a storm ...and when a tummy is empty.xx

  7. I was heartened to hear that your cats also have spats. I suppose its unreasonable for several cats to live in the same house and not have them, but all the same I hate seeing them not get on.

    Yes, a refuge high in a tree sounds wonderful. I love, love trees of any kind but our Holms Oak is my favourite. It is not deciduous and is a lovely tree in the summer if a bit of shade is needed. I also love the shape of it.


  8. What lovely photos of Willow, she looks very happy in her tree refuge:) I have to confess that I've never climbed a tree! I only realised it when my DIL climbed our oak tree with Gabriel and George when they were here the other weekend. Do you think 65 is too old to start?

  9. Oh I spent so many happy hours in trees as a child! And a teenager, too. Bliss.