It's been a busy week around here for the resident felines. Of course, when it isn't raining the weather is conducive to all sorts of activities - Jack and I have been sun and dust bathing and sampling anything new and green that pops up. The two cats, on the other paw, have been busy with more nefarious pursuits.
Some poor, deluded thrush or finch or something or other has built a nest in the corner of the porch, only to have become a source of never-ending scrutiny and entertainment for Violet. Though she pretends her interest is of the friendly, scientific variety, her eyes are narrow and her tail quivery. She is shut in the house for periods of time so the bird can sit on the eggs but we can hear the outraged howls and yowls all the way out in our paddock. This does not auger well.
Sally and Penny have become great friends, in fact Sally is so impressed by Penny that she has decided she too is a dog. When the woman takes Penny for her morning constitutional down the farm lane, Sally trots behind, staring in wonder at her surroundings. Just to be on the safe side, and to appear large and fierce, she raises a mohawk of hair along her back and puffs out her tail for the whole trip. The other day the woman took the path that goes into the woods. Sally stopped at the entrance and stared in all directions, her mouth open in a perfect "O" shape. Then she carefully raised every hair on her small person, even the fur on the top of her head. Thus enlarged, she proceeded into the woods.
When Penny lies in the sun, Sally stretches out beside her, back to back, and when Penny has a snack from the tack room cupboard, Sally sits beside her and has one too. They both supervise all the gardening and Sally has become a keen participant. She football tackles plants and shrubs and has reduced some of the greenery to rubble. She particlularly likes a grassy-looking plant that smells of onions. Today the woman told her she smells of falafel - it should be spelled fal-awful, given the fumes emanating from Sally's beige coat. Being a very busy cat, her ablutions are more of a lick and a promise so it's a good thing she is mainly shades of dirt.
Today the woman climbed on Doc and then Molly and piloted them around the sand area. Strange, I know, but they all seem to enjoy it. The woman was working on some manoeuvre that involves stopping and then backing Molly up. Sally rushed up, threw herself upside down directly in front of Molly and grabbed her ankle, pretending to chew on it like a sabre toothed tiger. Molly, good natured soul that she is, waited patiently and finally reached down and nuzzled Sally. Sally rushed off in pursuit of an insect so the crisis was averted. Jack and I decided that the bits of grass growing in the sand area were highly desirable and the woman kept getting Doc and Molly to chase us out. I finally just lay down on what she calls the track and forced her to go around me while I napped. She keeps saying all the inhabitants of the forest put together aren't as disruptive as we are. I take that as a great compliment.
The wretched writing machine is still hospitalized so I can't show you any pictures but someone at my party took a video and apparently you may view it on something called YouTube if you type the words Sheaffer Donkey in the box marked search. I don't understand the musical accompaniment but it's pleasant nonetheless.