Signs of Rain

     Not much so far but enough to chap Blaxter's hide. He can't decide where he wants to be and acts disgusted when he forces himself to venture forth in the rain. At least Blaxter doesn't require a litter box like most cats. This allows us to have a cat without the obnoxious odors that usually accompany ownership. Not that Blaxter would ever consider himself as being owned. Guests have had odd looks on their faces when he saunters in to inspect them a short time after their arrival. They've commented and asked what our secret was. Did I train him to use the toilet? Hardly. Nancy trained him to sit, to lay down and to shake but that's as far as she got. He lets us know when he needs to go out and we open the door. He's in charge of our relationship because eight years ago he chose to walk into our lives. 

    Blaxter initially lived at the local dentist's office with two other cats. All three were dropped off at our next door neighbors when the dentist closed his office. That was a year or so before we bought the house next door. During that time the other two cats died from the usual things that kill cats but not Blaxter. He survived the streets and the racoons and the coyotes then decided that we were his new humans. I think the brushings had more to do with that choice than anything else but I believe there's some love involved too. At least on our part.