Catwalk
I take Penny and Obi for a walk every day.
Okay, I take Penny... I don't get a choice with Obi.
As I put the leash on the dog, the cat comes sprinting from the tundra (grass) and eagerly joins in.
Obi has enjoyed these walks for the past few years. We sometimes try to sneak out of the house, for worry he will get himself into mischief or a rogue dog will come chasing him, but all of our efforts are fruitless...
He loves our walks.
He trots behind us or sprints ahead and lies in wait for us to catch up. Literally, he lies there.
He might rub his back against the concrete, polish his paws, or enjoy the cool grasses of an unwitting neighbor's lawn. If that neighbor has a dog, he will run up to the fence and encourage the little rascal to stick it's nose out from under so he can SWAT! it accordingly, in one fell swoop.
I'm not sure why our next door neighbor's yorkie hasn't caught on. Poor little Obama gets his wet nose swatted more times than Lindsey Lohan gets thrown into the slammer.
I'd love to say Bobbi is graceful when he walks. I mean, he's a cat, so he kinda' is. But he's just so big and burly... it's a sight.
Yesterday the 3 of us, Penny, Bob and I were on our walk. We rounded the corner and watched a child play basketball with his dad. Bobbi graced against the daddy's leg seeking a petting.
Father looks at me, and all I could do is shrug. For all I know the father or child hates cats or is allergic. But Bob wouldn't listen to me when I called him. He proceeded to relax on their grass, watching the game.
I carried on in my walk because, quite frankly, I can't catch Bobby. I assumed he would follow me as I distanced myself from him while walking with Penny.
But he never followed, so I had to change my course and head back down the street to see if I could conjure him from his resting spot.
As I got back toward the house, Bobby was still hanging out on the grass, but the family had retreated indoors.
Maybe they don't like cats?
As we neared our home, Bobby stopped to visit the kids across the street.
He's a social butterfly, that one is- and you can't cage a butterfly.
Okay, I take Penny... I don't get a choice with Obi.
As I put the leash on the dog, the cat comes sprinting from the tundra (grass) and eagerly joins in.
Obi has enjoyed these walks for the past few years. We sometimes try to sneak out of the house, for worry he will get himself into mischief or a rogue dog will come chasing him, but all of our efforts are fruitless...
He loves our walks.
He trots behind us or sprints ahead and lies in wait for us to catch up. Literally, he lies there.
He might rub his back against the concrete, polish his paws, or enjoy the cool grasses of an unwitting neighbor's lawn. If that neighbor has a dog, he will run up to the fence and encourage the little rascal to stick it's nose out from under so he can SWAT! it accordingly, in one fell swoop.
I'm not sure why our next door neighbor's yorkie hasn't caught on. Poor little Obama gets his wet nose swatted more times than Lindsey Lohan gets thrown into the slammer.
I'd love to say Bobbi is graceful when he walks. I mean, he's a cat, so he kinda' is. But he's just so big and burly... it's a sight.
Yesterday the 3 of us, Penny, Bob and I were on our walk. We rounded the corner and watched a child play basketball with his dad. Bobbi graced against the daddy's leg seeking a petting.
Father looks at me, and all I could do is shrug. For all I know the father or child hates cats or is allergic. But Bob wouldn't listen to me when I called him. He proceeded to relax on their grass, watching the game.
I carried on in my walk because, quite frankly, I can't catch Bobby. I assumed he would follow me as I distanced myself from him while walking with Penny.
But he never followed, so I had to change my course and head back down the street to see if I could conjure him from his resting spot.
As I got back toward the house, Bobby was still hanging out on the grass, but the family had retreated indoors.
Maybe they don't like cats?
As we neared our home, Bobby stopped to visit the kids across the street.
He's a social butterfly, that one is- and you can't cage a butterfly.
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