Pablo got a few novel trips outdoors this week to sniff every square inch of the backyard. At times this also meant pruning dead branches off the pink-blooming bush at the corner of the house. Methodically. Obsessively.
Now all Pablo wants to do is go outside. He thinks he can butter me up, but unbeknownst to him, his owner was crowned Ice Queen of 2005.
In revenge, Pablo has taken to joining me in the office as I work. This usually involves taking my lap hostage and imepeding the use of the mouse.
If he isn’t parked in my lap, he is stalking the back door meowing to be let out. Like that’s going to happen. I live on a high-traffic street, the cat is front-declawed, a family of bunnies lives under the front bush, and the pond is overrun by birds looking for a drink of scumwater.
On second thought, no wonder he wants outdoors. My lap is pretty boring.
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Boy, cats sure do have it tough. We live next to a large field/plain, so no matter how hard we try to raise indoor cats, they always want to go out and sniff things and chase mice. Unfortunately, we’ve lost two to coyotes (we think). So, it’s a constant inner battle whether to let them out or not.
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