Blue and Riley
Busy, busy, busy. And I thought retiring was supposed to leave me more time for doing what I enjoy. It does, but I enjoy so much! Do you have so many things you like to do, but can’t find the time to do them all?
I love writing, and writing one novel in particular, is my main project. Then there’s all I have learned about social media recently at the Tucson Festival of Books. I’m sure you know how it is. You learn something new, get all excited, and have to jump right in there and try it all. In this case, it makes sense for me to sit down and set my goals and write my biographies and sign up on social media sites and learn Hootsuite and redo my blog and, and, and . . . .
And last night I was blasted out of a sound sleep by the screeching of our three cats fighting. Yeah, three of them. I never thought we’d have three but, Dickens, my main man, struck out for parts unknown last summer and, when he didn’t come home for food for four days, we were sure he was gone forever. There’s raptors, coyotes and bears around here, and we try to keep the guy in at night, but he had his own idea about that.
So we went right to the shelter and brought back Riley and Blue, two all black males who got along great. Naturally, a week later Dickens showed up at the patio door, all filthy and skinny and howling to come in.
We tried everything to get them friendly, or at least to put up with each other. I bought a book on accommodating cats and followed all the rules and spent a fortune on cat toys. We kept them separated and tried special introductions with playtime and treats. Nothing doing. The two boys stay in the bedroom downstairs and Dickens stays upstairs, usually. But Blue absolutely, positively has to sneak upstairs on Dickens at every opportunity. Anyone who has cats knows how good they are at disappearing and appearing when you are least aware.
What, or what, are we going to do?