The next time you ask me for directions...
just don't say I didn't warn you.
In other news, I pass roadkill with some frequency on my commute to and from work. Since I'm on my bike, I'm usually going slowly and my morbid curiosity means that I generally manage to identify it. Raccoons and groundhogs are bad enough, but today, just a couple blocks from the house, I passed--what was once--a beautiful, tortoise shell kitten. Couldn't have been more than a few months old.
baronmind's having the house painted, and I was glad that I reminded the painters on the way out that--while, of course, doors and windows sometimes had to be left ajar to dry--they were never to leave anything open so wide that my cats could get out. I'd given this instruction to one of the painters a couple of days ago, and the conversation that followed made it clear that he was a huge animal lover, and I felt completely reassured. If they hadn't stopped me on my way out this morning to mention they were painting the doors I would never have brought it up again.
Even so, I was surprisingly relieved when I got home and both my boys were still safely inside.
If you've been to the house, you know we don't exactly live in an urban area. Technically, I suppose it's suburbia, although it's far more rural than what I grew up thinking of as The Suburbs. It's not The Sticks, by any means, but... well, you get the picture. My point is that I'm astonished when people ask me why I don't let the cats outside. Don't get me wrong, if I could trust them to stay in the yard, I'm sure they'd have a blast out there... But cats aren't like dogs. Your average fence isn't really an issue for them, and they will get out.
The state Algernon was in when I found him was bad enough... but that kitten today.
In other news, I pass roadkill with some frequency on my commute to and from work. Since I'm on my bike, I'm usually going slowly and my morbid curiosity means that I generally manage to identify it. Raccoons and groundhogs are bad enough, but today, just a couple blocks from the house, I passed--what was once--a beautiful, tortoise shell kitten. Couldn't have been more than a few months old.
baronmind's having the house painted, and I was glad that I reminded the painters on the way out that--while, of course, doors and windows sometimes had to be left ajar to dry--they were never to leave anything open so wide that my cats could get out. I'd given this instruction to one of the painters a couple of days ago, and the conversation that followed made it clear that he was a huge animal lover, and I felt completely reassured. If they hadn't stopped me on my way out this morning to mention they were painting the doors I would never have brought it up again.
Even so, I was surprisingly relieved when I got home and both my boys were still safely inside.
If you've been to the house, you know we don't exactly live in an urban area. Technically, I suppose it's suburbia, although it's far more rural than what I grew up thinking of as The Suburbs. It's not The Sticks, by any means, but... well, you get the picture. My point is that I'm astonished when people ask me why I don't let the cats outside. Don't get me wrong, if I could trust them to stay in the yard, I'm sure they'd have a blast out there... But cats aren't like dogs. Your average fence isn't really an issue for them, and they will get out.
The state Algernon was in when I found him was bad enough... but that kitten today.