My plants never got that big!
Rather
than posting a plain old boring open thread, since I ran out of time yesterday.
I thought I would tell you a small story about a cat. Now, that’s a surprise I
bet!
This story occurred in the 1980s.
This was during the Tulalip years. However, my parents wanted to go live for a while at their place in Shawana, WA on the Columbia River. So we rented the old homestead from them for a couple of years. It was fun to be home and to have the big garden and lawn and so on. None of that existed at our cabin on leased land on the Res.
As it happened, my old friend Winny, the Poplar Sweetheart, as she was know by some, a member of the Assiniboine Tribe, which is basically Canadian Sioux, had an old friend who died, leaving her cat behind. He was a white Tom. I have no memory of his original name.
Winny asked if I would take this white cat and give him a home. He had never been outside in his life. He was a confirmed old bachelor house cat. So, it was assumed that I would keep him indoors for the remainder of his life.
Well. The first thing that happened is that Bubble Woman, my eldest daughter, and very fond of David Bowie named this cat Major Tom. It stuck. Seemed like a good name for a white Tom cat.
I looked at Major Tom, and he looked back at me, and I thought, what the heck, and I took him out into the front yard and said, “Here ya go, Dude! Have fun!”
And I think he did have fun being an indoor/outdoor cat. He knew enough to come home to eat and all. He took to it right away.
At the time I was growing catnip plants in the front beds for the cats. I had to cover them with glass bottles, or the cats would eat them down to the ground. So what I did was to expose one for a while, and then cover it to grow back. Cats really like the fresh stuff!
This story occurred in the 1980s.
This was during the Tulalip years. However, my parents wanted to go live for a while at their place in Shawana, WA on the Columbia River. So we rented the old homestead from them for a couple of years. It was fun to be home and to have the big garden and lawn and so on. None of that existed at our cabin on leased land on the Res.
As it happened, my old friend Winny, the Poplar Sweetheart, as she was know by some, a member of the Assiniboine Tribe, which is basically Canadian Sioux, had an old friend who died, leaving her cat behind. He was a white Tom. I have no memory of his original name.
Winny asked if I would take this white cat and give him a home. He had never been outside in his life. He was a confirmed old bachelor house cat. So, it was assumed that I would keep him indoors for the remainder of his life.
Well. The first thing that happened is that Bubble Woman, my eldest daughter, and very fond of David Bowie named this cat Major Tom. It stuck. Seemed like a good name for a white Tom cat.
I looked at Major Tom, and he looked back at me, and I thought, what the heck, and I took him out into the front yard and said, “Here ya go, Dude! Have fun!”
And I think he did have fun being an indoor/outdoor cat. He knew enough to come home to eat and all. He took to it right away.
At the time I was growing catnip plants in the front beds for the cats. I had to cover them with glass bottles, or the cats would eat them down to the ground. So what I did was to expose one for a while, and then cover it to grow back. Cats really like the fresh stuff!
My son and I also made a fish pond in the front yard and stocked it with gold fish. It did entertain the cats and they actually caught some of the fish!
So, onward. He lived with us for a year or two. Don’t remember for sure. And then he was gone. Goodness knows. Out there it could have been anything from a raccoon to a coyote, or a tougher cat. Never saw him again. But I like to think that the last days of his life haunting the yard and bush next door were the best days of his life.
Ground Control did call him, but he didn’t respond.
So, onward. He lived with us for a year or two. Don’t remember for sure. And then he was gone. Goodness knows. Out there it could have been anything from a raccoon to a coyote, or a tougher cat. Never saw him again. But I like to think that the last days of his life haunting the yard and bush next door were the best days of his life.
Ground Control did call him, but he didn’t respond.
🤍
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