We returned home yesterday afternoon and before we took one item out of the car we ran into the house to see Simon. I think it’s fair to say we all missed each other. The poor guy was under the guest bed. He usually sleeps on top of it these days unless the nieces are here and he’s wigged. We could tell he spent no time on the hassock downstairs because the boy knows how to shed and there wasn’t a hair on it. That’s one of his favorite places to sleep.
He has spent all of the intervening time making sure he knows where we are or talking to us about where we are. Last night we finally had to open the bedroom doors so he could come in and be comforted. At some point early this morning, I had a face full of soft kitty fur. We’re really home, little guy.
The word has also gone out to all the deer in the neighborhood. The deer we’ve always been so friendly to–we keep part of our property as orchard grass so they can graze. Well, I’m considering cutting down the orchard grass and sitting on the front porch with a shotgun…mmm, tasty venison (ok, not really the hunting part):
We haven’t seen the saxophone playing frog since winter:
Poor Simon. He missed you so much.