Mr. Puss has a way with words. I come home in the afternoons and when he sees me walk in he kinda squeaks. That's his signal for me to come see him and to heartily rub him on the back. He likes to be stroked on the back. When he is feeling "special sporty" he'll roll over and let me rub him on his stomach. You know he's had enough when he bites your hand.
Rory is the same except she is different. Instead of rushing to get the warm spot in the bed she rushes to curl up in the sink. She doesn't like to leave the sink. In fact she is very adamant about staying in the sink. Even if you turn the water on. Have you ever tried to get a hair ball out the drain pipe? Well that's easier to do than get Rory out of the sink. She goes limp and then the faucet gets in the way. Then she gets cranky. Maybe I'll just grow a beard.
Then there's Puppy. I took her out last night so that she could attend to personal needs. What do we do. We spend 15 minutes checking out the place that the rabbits run through the fence. I don't know what it is with those rabbits, but Puppy is intrigued by them.
Speaking of rabbits; yeah I did happen to make it from cats to rabbits. The last time I had my vegetable garden I had several visitors. I am certain they were the refugees from Mr. MacGregor's garden. I am planning another vegetable garden this year. I suppose I better start planning for the bunnies. I wonder if they like peppers?
© 2008 Barry T Horst
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