The cats have been busy this week. Bobby Mac decided that there is something living in the woodpile which requires his nearly constant surveillance--especially first thing in the morning. He has parked himself for hours on the concrete pad facing the wall, then after several days took to stomping along the edge.
Willis has decided that maybe the scene is worth his expert viewpoint.
Nellie joins the detective force, concealing himself in the weeds behind the wall.
We wonder what is hiding in the stacked wood; Jim suggests one or more of the small lizards called 'skinks'. I suspect mice or squirrels may be checking out a possible winter residence and storehouse.
Perhaps by stomping about Bobby asserts his superior claims to the property!
Keeping watch, staking out a territory is demanding work--sometimes a cat needs a break!
I took my camera when I visited the goat barn during milking on Wednesday.
This kitten is wary of humans. The few times I've gotten my hands on her, she explodes with frightened hissing. She does join the other cats when B. is milking. B. talks to her softly, coaxes her with a few squirts of goat's milk put down in a dish.
B. arrived in late winter with 3 female barn cats and one neutered male.
The ladies all attracted local Toms and shortly supplied the farm with kittens.
They have just been fed and are enjoying 'time out' in the sunny main aisle of the stable.
The 4 newest babies are apt to get under foot in the milking area, so B. has provided a large carrier. If the kittens seem in danger of being trod upon, she scoops them into the cage and latches the door.
Kitten on a mission!
Waiting for more milk.
Getting in the way.
Never mind the goats' feet--we are playing hide and seek.
I am a big boy--I've learned to eat kibble!
A rare quiet moment for Bobby and Nellie.
Our cats have been what my late mother would have termed 'inspired'--boisterous, noisy.
They unearthed a catnip mouse which had been lurking under the fridge and took turns batting it about the kitchen, squabbling over ownership.
Early Friday morning they larruped through the bedroom, circled the hallway at speed, hurtled down the stairs and back up again.
I wonder sometimes what goes through their collective minds.
I was so misguided as to bring home a small oval rug which I put down in front of the vanity in the master bath. The rug has been mauled, skittered, repeatedly thrashed into a heap.
Bobby has draped himself around the edge of the dining table, Teasel takes my chair.
I'm waiting to see if all this wild activity ushers in a change in the weather!