For Mother's Day the cats gave me a bird foot, piece of gut, and feathers. Here Mom - leftovers.
For Father's Day they brought a sizable headless rabbit. Here Dad - dinner.
Then there's the card.
But I got a nice card that day, so I'll get over this also.
Posts
2 comments:
I have an apartment full of cats. Not always the same ones, because I have helped with a rescue group for years. But for the past 5+ years, the same six fellas who are still here have been with me. If I lived where you do they would be outdoor guys and I would let them take their chances, although I might make them wear bells! They would not have the neuroses that cooped -up ones develop. Here, they stay behind the four walls, protected from fast cars, antifreeze, and mean teenagers. When they go to the vet, they come home on this pill and that, as they age, and for Mother's Day I get hairballs. Aargh--as I was typing the above sentence, one threw up on the desk--I kid you not!!!!
In my retirement dreams, we are all out running free--but don't tell my animal rescue friends that!
Have your animal rescue friends visit too. I have the happiest cats, chickens, goats, etc. If you lead their life, you'd be happy too. A place to live, a food supply, and freedom to be what you were born to be - an animal.
Scratch that. All my animals have a job, but that gets complicated. Basically they all have a part in the balance of nature here on the farm. Unless they are meant to breed, they are neutered, so the only difference is that they get to run around. And where are my cats most of the time? At the kitchen door. I have said they should be called "door step" cats, not barn cats.
Post a Comment