Thursday, April 2, 2009

This American Life.

I think I've admitted my addiction a few times, but in case you missed the memo, I have a problem with taking photos of my cats. And why not? I don't have children nor a job, and, well, digital photos are free to take. Plus, since my cats talk and blog (he's a little behind on it, but, he's been busy), it's only natural I want to make sure I capture them at their finest.

About a month ago, Erik and I came into a windfall known as our tax refund. I exaggerate, of course, about the windfall, but we figured it was enough to splurge $25 on a kitty condo for their cat escapades. What a great ROI we've experienced, too.

With the spring in full bloom here in Central Texas, it was only natural for us to pull out the bird feeder, too. Last fall, we had a regular pair of love bird cardinals, a handful of bluejays, and the sparrows. We've had our romps with the raccoon, too, but that's a story for another day. But with the spring and the bluebonnets and the baby cardinals also comes a new patio friend: Mr. Squirrel.

And boy, do I love Mr. Squirrel.

First and foremost, I love squirrels, period. After living in the most shady housing project on the campus of Cornell College (and by shady, I mean THE BEST, may it rest in pieces), I became good friends with a few funkified squirrels. There was the all black squirrel, which we gave a name and subsequently forgot. Then there were the regular fair weather squirrel friends who came when they knew there was food to be had. And then there was my favorite: the one who would bark non-stop on my fire escape at ALL hours. My roommate and I would bark back, naturally, but it was then that I came to really appreciate the fact that squirrels are flippin' hilarious animals. The darn thing was always mad at me for living quite the life up in section 8 while he had to fight with the other squirrels for a piece of the pie.

Well, in a moment of brilliance on my part (I say with no shame) I moved kitty condo from its residence beside the cat food bowl to in front of the patio doors. And boy, the investment returns went up, up, up!

Fast forward to two days ago. Two cats lounging like they would in the condo are suddenly confronted by Mr. Squirrel. And Mr. Squirrel is a talker. And the cats are also talkers. Hilarity ensues, naturally.

Hours of entertainment, digital memories, and all thanks to a little $25 investment. Thanks America!

(No, your eyes don't deceive you. I still have a pumpkin from Halloween AND lights from Christmas up on the patio. I'm a little bitter Erik won't let me keep the lights on, but I compromised in being able to keep them up).

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