Shootin' the Breeze

and random targets

Archive for the tag “cats”

Hunt Team

hunt team

I pity whatever is hiding in the hole.  The hunt team is on the prowl.

hunter

It takes concentration.

Hunting Party

And a willingness to go far afield.pointer

And it don’t hurt to bring a huntin’ dog to point out the quarry.

Huntoverview

Team work!

The Welcome Committee

Welcome Committee

The weather is wonderful.  It seems like Spring is here.  The birds are singing.  We have birdhouses to attract our feathery friends, but so far, no takers.  Any suggestions?

A Way to Skin a Rabbit — Unillustrated

Beau tries to retrieve what Sugar did not want retrieved.

Shootin' the Breeze

There is, they say, more than one way to skin a cat. I contend that the same is true of skinning rabbits. Today’s lesson involves a cat and a rabbit. Now do I have your attention? Don’t shy away. There will be no photos.

In many of my posts, I have mentioned various animals. Beau, our male Yellow Lab, is featured in some of the more popular of those posts, including the most recent prior to this very one, which is about his dietary choices.

So, to continue on a related theme, I describe the scene of tonight’s meal at our home, prepared by Sugar, my trophy wife. We decided to eat on the front porch. It is covered, offering shade, unlike the courtyard to the rear. We had four companions, none of whom had been invited — two dogs and two cats.

After Sugar finished her meal and put…

View original post 508 more words

Beau the Wascally Wabbit

Another adventure for Beau. The marathon continues.

Shootin' the Breeze

I know, I know — a picture is worth a thousand words,but I did not have a camera with me to get a photo, so we will have to go the word route.  Use your imagination to picture this:

Beau is a Yellow Lab who weighs around 80 lbs.  (I do have photos of him and The Prodigal Cat).Pussy 

We have been orienting our two cats, The Prodigal Cat and The Baby Kitten, to live in the barn by keeping them in cages in a stall, hoping that by eating and sleeping and, you know, using toilet facilities there, within cages, when released, they will hang around.

Yesterday was a big step in the cat orientation because we let them out of their respective cages.  Under our watchful eyes, the cats got along and, more importantly stayed around the barn.  So far, so good.  Our plan was to continue…

View original post 289 more words

Feline Martial Arts

It seems to me that cats invented mixed martial arts. 

I have been watching our cats, Jiggy and Camo, fight constantly yet playfully.  They box, wrestle, and it appears that judo is also in the repertoire of each. 

They are very acrobatic and athletic.  I am impressed.

They kinda remind me of myself. Except I don’t bite.

Cat Tales

Now we have three cats — The Prodigal Cat, The Baby Kitty, and, as of yesterday, The Yellow Cat With A Broken Tail.

Yesterday, the yellow cat showed up on the porch.  It looks like it has “been around.”  It has a scar on its face and a broken tail.  Miss Sugar fed it and it purred.  Beau chased it up a support post on the front porch and finished its lunch.  Miss Sugar put it in a little tool shed on the property.  It seems to like it.  We wonder whether someone dropped it off.  We do not exactly live on the main drag. 

Today, The Prodigal Cat is having surgery.  We brought it to The Cat Rescue Spay & Neuter Clinic at 7:00 a.m. this morning.  It was in a cage in the back of the SUV, crying all the way.  Maybe it heard us talking about its fate.  I did not comfort it.  I suggested that it run for the hills, but I was obligated to leave it in the cage.  I feel as if I am betraying a fellow male.  I am breaking The Golden Rule.  I certainly would not want this “done unto me.”  Our thinking is that it might stay home when it loses its interest in dating females. 

The Baby Kitty is oblivious to the life experiences that the senior cats have endured.  Its day will come. 

Prodigal Cat

The Prodigal Cat left again.  The night before last, we did not lock it on the screened porch before dark.  It had stayed home all day and seemed to have some fun hanging out with the dogs.  However, under cover of darkness, it made its escape.

The next morning, yesterday, we got a call from the neighbor who had found it in the first place, when it spent some time in her barn on sabbatical.  This time, she knew who to call — Sugar.  So, we drove over there (two miles) and found it where she said it would be, shut in the tack room, sleeping on a saddle.

Sugar concluded that the cat is lonesome for its own kind and goes to the neighbor’s place because she has other cats in her barn.  Accordingly, Sugar found on the internet an ad for some kittens.  We drove forty miles to get the last one. 

The new kitty is in a cage on the porch with the Prodigal Cat.  That way, they can get acquainted through the bars.  The older cat seems fascinated with the baby one and quit crying for freedom.

Time with tell whether this arrangement will work.  Now, at least, if the Prodigal Cat leaves again, we still have a cute kitty.

Living on the Porch

Since getting our cat back and confining her to the porch, both of us have to adjust.

First, allow me, dear reader, to orient you to the scene so you might visualize what I am about to relate.

There is a door from the kitchen to the screened porch where the cat resides.  Above the kitchen is the bedroom, where my wife lays her pretty head.

I was in the kitchen.  I clearly heard my name repeated over and over.  “Al.   Al.   Al.   Al.”  Concerned, I went upstairs to the bedroom to see what Sugar was calling me about.  I was concerned that something was wrong.  When I opened the bedroom door, I saw that Sugar was still sound asleep.  I concluded that she was dreaming about me and calling my name with joy.

Then I returned to the kitchen to make some tea.  Immediately, I heard my name being called again.  Puzzled, because I had just checked on my wife, I listened carefully for the source of the sound.

You guessed it — the cat was meowing my name, demanding to be fed. 

So, I woke Sugar up and told her to feed the cat!  No, I didn’t, but I had you for a second.  I fed the cat.  What a good boy am I!

We are glad to have the cat back home, but another person has lost her cat.  The same neighbor who told us that she found our cat, and closed it in the tack room in her barn so we could recover it, called yesterday to ask if we had seen her white cat that lives in her barn.  (Was she accusing us of stealing her cat?)  Maybe her cat misses our cat and will show up here, but so far it has not.

If it does, I will teach it to say my name.  Then when it needs anything, I will come a runnin’.

Post Navigation