NOT one of MY CATS.......

 What is it about this place. We live in a fishbowl. On this hill. Cats like fish. I suppose. Maybe that's why they come here. Friendly cats. Wanting to see . Wanting a few kind words maybe.Wanting to play.

 Wanting treats. The word is out. "Tuxedo" has been around  here off and on the past year. She sits on the fence mostly. Only in the past few weeks has she come down. Peered in the glass door.Braving Spencer and the others. Spencer yowls at her. She's not afraid of him.

 Excited Bo nonstop. Bo tries to bash at her through the glass, by throwing herself at the door. Well, that is, until today. Bo's gotten more used to her. Spencer allowed Tuxedo to come to the steps and sit awhile. Like some sort of Southern ritual. Bo still was not impressed. Messes up her morning nap routine.Swish swish goes Tuxedo's tail.

                                                      

   I'll never understand why these cats  come here. They're not MY cats. My cats are indoors. My cats like soft cushions, scratchies on the head at the ready, and undivided attention. It's a novelty seeing  cats sit on the bench. Hisssss. Hissssssssss, go MY cats. Where did THAT come from?

These neighbourhood cats come from good homes, a house or two away. They HAVE humans. Here they play games, like "let's hide behind the planter and jump out when she walks by". Like little kids. Gleefully. Tails swishing, big grins.A purring thrum that never ceases. "Let's do it again."

 

 A nap on the porch in my favourite moss baskets. Why do all the cats like to sit in the dirt and knead the moss? Why do they all like to swish it out of the pots? Swish swish.You're not one of MY cats....

 And yet another door to look through. They all do it. They watch to see if YOU are watching. Swish swish go the tails again, and again. "Next time, let's go running around her in circles. Then leap in the air and run up the hill". Yes, that would be fun. After a treat of course.

 It's come to taking turns on the side porch. Aa big hit .  I am convinced that they DO have a sense of humour. They DO feel joy and express themselves. Swish Swish. Those darn tails.

                                  

 And they wait. When I'm outside they follow around. Watching. Talking. Wanting to know if they can play another game. They express themselves well. One of God's creatures . I  never asked for them to come. And yet they do. Whenever they wish. Swish. Swish. Those darn tails. I wonder what they will say today. I wonder what game will it be ? "Tag, you're it, catch me if you can......Oh, but can I have a snack first, please?"   Swish swish.