Sunday, October 2, 2016
Your afternoon Buster fix
Buster has become totally friendly to me, although he still won't come in the house of his own accord, after one or two explorations. We'll see if that changes when the temperature plummets.
Here he is trying to live up to the memory of Boris, the white Geneva Street/Albany Street feral patriarch who passed away two years ago.
I'm still not used to having an outdoor cat around. I saw a cat down the road this morning, and called to it. It looked at me, then leaped the ditch into the woods. I swore various four-letter words at people who dump cats, and planned to head down the road with food after finishing cleaning the cat facility. Shortly, Buster showed up.
Duh. It was my own cat.