Boaz Byassee

My Bo has been gone now for a week yesterday.  I don’t have a clue what happened to him.  Even though he was getting old, he could still catch birds and squirrels.  Not an easy task.  So I think he has been hit by a vehicle or killed by a dog or gotten stuck somewhere that he couldn’t get out.

It seems so weird coming home and him not waiting in the driveway for me.  And getting up in the morning and not seeing him waiting by the back door to be fed.

No, I don’t want another one.  Not yet anyway.

Bob’s Cat

My neighbor, Bob, is a good man.  I know this because he is good to animals… and people.  We work together on the days that I am in this county, and so I have seen him in action with people.  Some days we have a chance to chat, and we chat about our pets.  He has a cat, and I have a cat.

Today, I am taking down the dog house/ cat house that I bought because Bob is so good to his cat, and I am not so good to my cat.  I am also going to take back the heated animal pad that I also bought in my guilt-laden shopping trip to Rural King.  The guilt-laden pet owner shopping trip.  Because Bob is just so darned good to his cat.

His cat has a heated pad in the garage where he puts her at night out of the winter cold.  His cat gets special little treats to eat.  Why, I bet he even gives the neighbor cats a special little treat if they happen to be hanging around at the right time.

And believe you me, those neighbor cats know when to hang around at the right time.  It amazes me how a person can start off with one measly little cat… and have ten lurking around the perimeter of the homey cat’s domain, spying the hiding places in the yard to run to when homey cat’s owner is chasing them, ranting and raving like a lunatic; searching out the best places to have those illegitimate kittens that belong to God alone knows how many different Toms.  Why, my sister’s cat… but wait a minute.  We’re talking about Bob’s cat.

I think it’s spoiled.