I went out to the barn to take this picture the other day of the first day of autumn.
I left the garage door open and the cat had been inside. He followed me out.
When we lived at the Other Ranch he was an indoor, outdoor can. He was young and a good mouser. He was also a good ground squirrel-er and rabbit-er. My little garden grew very well for all the critters I buried there.
But here we are right on the ranch. The guests pass our house on the way to the horses. Their kids play at the ranch park, in our backyard. So the day Adventure Man came to have me bury a decapitated rabbit that was left on our back step, he decided the cat had to stay in. (Not to mention the threat of mountain lions, coyotes, bears, and zombies.) Really it's for the good of the cat!
But he's a Siamese cat. And he has a Siamese cry. MmmEeeeAaawww. Once I woke in the night and thought a child was crying "Mama!" It was just the cat in the hall. He makes me crazy! He walks down the hall where the hardwood floors have a great echo effect. There he tells the world what a sorry kitty he is. In fact, even as I type this he is off somewhere crying like a baby. Oh, he has food, and water…. Just no justice.
He is allowed into the garage. Where it would be nice if he caught a mouse. Sadly, squirrels also get into the garage. Apparently he doesn't really like to eat mice. But he can't finish a squirrel! So we trap mice in traps and he leaves bloody squirrel messes for me.
No really! Once, the whole floor was covered with blood. Like he had slit a throat and just let the animal flop around. It was like the feline mafia had just had a shake down.
"You talk'n to me?"
"Ah, Forget 'bout it!"
So, I walked out and the cat just followed me. Stalking a long, never getting too far from my side. It's is as if he knows it's not safe for him here. He is out of practice. He's no barn cat. He never was. He is a fat house cat who wants to sit and snuggle. Seriously, we should have named him Romeo!