During the cold snap we had in December (in the high teens, low twenties, very cold for us), Mark suggested putting leftover food out for the stray cat who has been sleeping in the well house. The water in the huge tank keeps the temperature of the tiny building warmer than the air outside. So, long story short, Mark started this. Anyway, I've continued putting food out (mostly the good stuff our boys won't eat) by the compost pile, where the cat was foraging for food.
Now when we come home, the cat is waiting on
the trail to the compost pile, meowing like crazy.
the trail to the compost pile, meowing like crazy.
"She" (I think, but I've never been good at that,Amelia Bedelia fathered 12 guinea piggies)
makes a beeline for me, purring wildly.
Next is the rubbing, combined with purring andhappy meowing. This is confusing, our boys
don't stoop to these tawdry displays of affection.
She's getting impatient and "pointing" to her dish.
She wolfs down her food. Apparentlyfield mice and voles aren't filling her up.
And then comes the "thank-you"look.
Who can resist that?
