Crap on a cat’s tail: Boy’s will be boys
THIS MORNING I heard a terrible racket over the river–like someone trying to start a prehistoric chainsaw (if there was such a thing) and I told Chap, “Listen! It’s one of the herons and it’s in trouble.”
He said, “No, it’s some sort of machine. Somebody’s trying to start yard equipment”
As usual, I was right.
I went down with the dogs and broke it up, and both birds flew away–though one of them took a little longer to get in the air
I think he got a little too close the nest of the tri-colored heron nesting in our tree
Later, the seagulls showed up for dinner
and brought some Canadians along. One of the Canadians crapped on the cat’s tail, and I told Marlowe he was going to get a bath . . . so he ran into “his” paper bag . . .
and he looked so cute, I settled for wiping him down with a baby wipe.