He’s too old to cut the mustard anymore.
Hi readers. Thanks for the visit.
Jeanne’s next door neighbor saw us on the back porch the other day: “Hi. Is that big, fluffy-looking black and white cat yours?”
Me: “He came with me from Texas.” No point giving my cat-ownership philosophy dissertation.
Neighbor grinning: “We watch television late at night with the front door open. He comes by every night and sticks his head inside, looks at us a moment, then leaves. It’s eery when he meets your eye.”
Hydrox is evidently as determined to milk as much living out of this life as I am. Even if it means spying on the neighbors. They’re older than him, but barely.