We are back from three idyllic days of visiting friends at their lake house in Connecticut. A lake house can be a truly wonderful thing, and this one had been thoughtfully designed to be beautiful and comfortable in every way. All we thought it needed was a cat (or several). Instead we visited with friendly dogs, saw blue herons while kayaking, and heard two recent, amazed first-hand accounts of bear sightings. (I so wanted to see a bear but didn't.)
Then we drove home to the local wildlife. Here is Wendy, expecting her Evil Mommy to Kill Her, and Toffee, wondering whether he should knock some sense into her little calico head:
We are getting some of our upholstery repaired, refreshed, or redone, so we're missing the covers on our sofa. It's been interesting. Of course, someone threw up on one of those down cushions within 24 hours. And I'm already very tired of brushing cat hair off the white fabric. (I guess I'm cured of wanting off-white slipcovers, even though I will always think they look great in other people's houses.)
It's still May (I think . . . maybe it's April) in Old New Yorker Land, as the messy magazine pile is known around here. I cleared some stacks of books from the coffee table recently, which made room for Harris to settle in and rest his paw on at least three months of issues, enabling him to read them all simultaneously. (Click here for more on how cats learn by literary osmosis)
Here Harris claimed a new box and made a funny face as I photographed him:
He's an excellent subject, changing poses and holding them until I get my shot:
Elsewhere on the bed, Possum overheard me cooing over Harris and decided he'd pose, too. Here, he's trying to seem nonchalant while resting his head on our hard iron footboard, one leg stuck awkwardly in the air. I rarely see a cat looking this uncomfortable, but he stubbornly stayed put, trying to prove he is at least as talented as Harris.