Okay, just what was going on here while I was gone? Hmmm?
Luckily, we have photos of the crime scene, taken by our on-site CSI personnel.
Film at 11.
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Last Thursday night I was catching up on blogs before I went to bed when suddenly a bat! swooped from the hall into and out of my office. I know bats are beneficial animals, I know they eat literally tons of insects like mosquitoes, and I know they do not attempt to nestle in one's hair. Still, it unnerved me a bit. Bats do not belong in the house. But I persevered at the computer until it swooped through my office a second time. I decided that it was my bedtime -- I closed the door to my bedroom firmly when I retired -- and that I would let the cats deal with Mr. Bat.
He has not been seen since. Yay.
(Note: the bat in the photo is not *my* bat; it is just a photo I found on the web. *My* bat remains unrecorded.)
* * * * *
And then there was the day I was doing paperwork at my desk when I noticed this.
What the heck was s/he doing? And no, s/he was not dancing to the music. S/he had the beat all wrong.
* * * * *
One pleasant evening last week I was knitting on the deck. But although I lacked human companionship, I was definitely not alone.
To my left, Big Ole Bear, aka Princess Brindle Bear of Antler, mostly deaf and never terribly smart ("All heart, no brains") but the sweetest canine you ever want to meet:
To my immediate right, Lucy the Intrepid (smarter than Bear, but not smart enough to stay away from that porcupine a few years back):
To my far right, En Esch the Precious But Stoopid, here performing one of his extremely rare acts of grooming; seriously, if his brother didn't wash him and I didn't comb him, he would be one big mass of mats:
Last but certainly not least, Hannibal the Magnificent:
Take at closer look at that calm and sweet face:
Now tell me true: is that the face of one that could do this?
Hannibal! The watchword(s) here at Chez Kat are *peaceful* and *coexistence*.
That last picture could be read two ways, either "No hunting" or "No chipmunks." Oddly enough, my personal preference is the second; the dang things scold our cats and dogs if the pets wander anywhere near the rock retaining wall behind which there is a veritable underground chipmunk metropolis, and constant angry chirping gets verrrrry annoying after 20 minutes or so. Thus, I tell Hannibal he is a smart, brave hunter-killer and to keep up the good work.
No problem, mon.
