Curves and Levels

Soyez Bienvenus Au Printemps!

Welcome to spring! Sez the cats. As March sunshine filled the front yard, Henry (the big guy above) and Lewis were out sniffing the garden and checking if the soil was suitable for hunkering down. It got me thinking about rakes and shovels.

Update: Two hours after I posted this, snow was falling in Magog. We remain optimistic.

Update 2: I have been told my title is not how most French-speakers would say, "Welcome to Spring." Since it is not actually wrong, just awkward, I'll leave it there and try to do better next time.

White On White On White

The neighbor's garage.

Below, spring IS coming, one drip at a time. And, so I can file this under Catblogging, Lewis, from this morning.

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Update: added some commas.

Again!*

*Nov.25

The little @%#&! stayed out all night. This time he waited until I printed up fifteen posters, which were then stapled all around the neighborhood, before he returned this morning. When I got back to the house he was on the front porch, acting like a cat who's missed a couple of meals.

At least it was a relatively warm night.

Polecat

Lewis' latest stunt. Actually, a polecat is a Eurasian weasel with a fondness for poultry. This is more accurately a cat on a pole. I'm guessing Lewis saw some birds up there, climbed the pole and decided he liked the view. Now he goes up every day. With Henry looking handsome, keeping watch, of course.

Cat Labyrinth

Fun with snow removal. As I was clearing a walking path from the front of the driveway down to the garage at the back of the yard, I noticed our two cats trying to tell me something. They had come outside with me, but two feet of recent snow left them limited rambling opportunities. With each few feet of shovelling progress they were following right behind, wondering where this path would take them. So instead of a straight shot to the garage, I built them a little maze. Exercise for everyone!

(Updated Dec. 28. Greetings and welcome to visitors from The Online Photographer)

Perdu 24 Hours Gone

Last night, our little buddy Lewis, didn't come home.

The backyard behind us goes deep; then comes parkland - woodlots, green space, willow scrub and tall grass. As long as our two kitties travel in that direction (they always do), they won't be tangling with traffic. There is a railroad back there, but these animals have enough good sense to stay clear of locomotives pulling a mile's worth of boxcars.

Cats should have a real cat life; with birds and mice to stalk, high branches to climb on and bushy hiding places - so we open the door for them. Young Lewis went out at 10:30AM yesterday and didn't return. Not at noon, when he usually comes back for a nibble and a long nap. Not at 1:00, when I walked the end of the yard giving the special two-tone come-home whistle. Not at three or at four-thirty, when I mounted extensive foot-patrols into the yonder bush. Then dusk fell, as did the snow. As did our spirits. He's never stayed away all night before. We went to bed imagining the worst.

This morning, I was out at first light, walking the neighbourhood, tracking paw prints, calling, calling. No luck. Much gloom and discouragement. My partner called the SPCA from work while I got a 'Lost' sign ('Perdu' en francais) set up on the computer. The printer needed ink; I was just about to install when I heard a faint cat-like noise. It must be Henry, I was sure. He's our other, older cat or it came from the schoolyard - the kids were having recess. I decided to check.

What's this? There was Lewis on the porch with Henry right on his heels like the worried older brother making sure he got home. What happened? Where did he shelter? Why didn't he answer? We'll never know, of course. One of these would have told us, but we're eschewing gadgets at the moment. Anyway, Lewis was all "Doop-de-doop. Hey, I'm home. Is there any food in the bowl? Why is everybody so excited?" We squinted our eyes.

What was it Homer Simpson said to the partially-eaten, picnic-sized sub sandwich that had already given him food poisoning?

"I can't stay mad at you!"

It's all good.

Henry: search team member.