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Since Lord Dudley Mountcatten has shown surprising mouse hunting skills, I bought him a catnip replica to practice his moves.
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As you can see….
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He was not the least bit impressed.
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And judging from that look, nothing good is going to come from my mistake.
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He’s on a roll.
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While it’s disturbing to realize how many mice we must have scurrying around our outbuildings…
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It’s nice to know His Lordship is doing his part to control the population.
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But his boredom with the dead mice is instantaneous.
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And yours truly is always left to deal with the remains.
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🥴
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Yours truly was born in New Jersey and my late father was Vice President of a Wall Street firm. We spent a lot of time in the city…. and I never ceased to be amazed at the resiliency of New Yorkers.
They adapt and barrel through life with a determination to be admired.
Case in point? The new law stating only dogs who fit in a bag will be allowed on the subway.
New Yorkers heard….
And in true Big Apple fashion, adapted.
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What I love most about these pictures? Even the dogs are New Yorkers.
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Best. Use. Of. L.L. Bean bag. Ever.
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And while all of those dog in bag shots are wonderful?
I think this last one wins the prize.
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🤣
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten falls asleep in some weird positions.
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And sometimes he simply slips out of position defying gravity on the way.
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I’m proud to say he eventually fell off and landed on the floor.
Yup.
That’s my boy.
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His Lordship was on high alert after hearing something in the backyard stone wall.
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Not finding anything, he tried the front lawn stone wall.
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After narrowly missing a chipmunk there….
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He returned to the back lawn stone wall… and waited.
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Patience paid off. He snatched a mouse out of a rock crevice and ran with it to the back door, which was thankfully closed. Rodent death was fairly quick this time around …
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So Dudley got bored with his prize and headed back to the wall. Leaving another fresh carcass for yours truly.
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten has notched another kill in his proverbial belt.
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On a stroll past the woodshed this morning, he darted inside and came up with a squeaker.
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But again, after catching it?
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He looked a little perplexed about what to do with it.
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It’s hard to watch him toying with it, but before long?
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Another carcass.
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Christina’s World is one of Andrew Wyeth’s most famous paintings.
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So surely I can’t be the only one who sees the similarities here….
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Let’s examine the Museum of Modern Art’s description. I’ve circled the pertinent parts for comparison.
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Am I right, or am I right?
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And while Lord Dudley doesn’t have polio like poor Christina, he does share her propensity for crawling…. so I’m calling it.
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We enjoy our nightly skunk visitors, occasional air pollution aside. They’re comical to watch but their presence often involves residual piles of poo. That normally isn’t an issue, but this morning’s deposit has definitely crossed the line.
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What up skunk!
Three acres of grass, fields and woods and you have to void your bowels on our kitchen landing?
Not cool skunk, most assuredly not cool.
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Well that’s a unique wine review.
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And apparently not well received.
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Have you ever wondered what your cat is really thinking? Judging from this picture of Lord Dudley Mountcatten, I’ve done something unforgivable.
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Damn it, now I can’t either.
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It rained heavily the other night, which means I woke up to this.
Again.
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My husband puts a paper towel in the bowl because he can’t stand to hear the dripping. This from the man who has the audio level of the television at 31.
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No matter how many times he fixes, replaces sections of, tars or flashes the roof?
This.
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It’s enough to make me scream because it doesn’t happen every time. We can have a rip roarer of a downpour and it will be fine. Then a normal shower will cause a breakthrough.
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So I bleached and patched the ceiling, again. Cursing under my breath the entire time.
Lord Dudley Mountcatten?
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Didn’t seem overly concerned.
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Yes, it finally happened.
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten…. walked. In the harness. On the leash. Of his own accord.
Be still my heart.
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After weeks of useless excursions when all he did was glance at me in disdain…. the other day he suited up and hit the door running.
Well, strolling is more accurate but I’ll take it. No fuss, no fight. He walked across the lawn, around the barn and woodshed, climbed the front stone wall, got tangled up in the bird bath and even lead me over to the apple trees.
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Which he found quite fascinating.
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I was happy to let him sit in the crook of the tree sniffing and scratching the bark, but then before I could react….
Bam!
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The little devil was scrambling up the tree with me still holding the leash. He wouldn’t come down, so I had to go up, and it wasn’t pretty.
Ever try to wrangle a leashed and harnessed cat out of a tree? It’s not a smooth process and I don’t recommend it.
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Upon retrieval, his Lordship was exhausted and happily plopped in the shade. I, on the other hand, examined my scratched arms, broken nail and twig infested hair.
And if that wasn’t bad enough? This morning I woke up with a wicked brown tail moth rash on my neck.
Needless to say we will be giving the apple trees a wide berth from now on.
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River's world..... 