Friday, February 8, 2008

Doin' the Stroll

Although it's been consistently overcast today, it hasn't been particularly chilly. It was pleasant enough, in fact, that Ralph and I wandered about in the park area back of the building this evening. I didn't even bother to throw on a jacket and Ralph, of course, was comfy in his fur coat.

Squirrelly, though. When one is out on a stroll with Ralph, one has to be on the lookout for sudden bursts of irrational racing hither and yon and cleverly staged ambushes from behind a clump of pampas grass -- or even from behind a clump of daisies. Ralph doesn't care if you see him coming, as long as you keep on coming so he can attack.

In between these mini-spells of madness, he will stroll sedately along, as dignified as a dowager headed for church. The only evidence you have that the serene demeanor will not last is the steady switching of his tail, so vigorous you can almost hear a faint whip crack.

Sometimes he follows me like a puppy but it's the most fun when he strolls in front. See, the hair is short from his ankles down but it's longer from the ankles up. Makes him look like he's wearing furry pantaloons. I tried to catch that effect. Got the swishing tail and got a bit of the cutie-pie profile as he glanced to the right but there is only a hint of the pantaloons. Sorry. I'll have to sneak a shot when he's strolling up the stairs ahead of me.

You know, there is probably a well-deserved ring of Hell for people who take unflattering pictures of their fur kids. On the other hand, this might be the only way I can get even for the way Ralph strolls across my body each morning when he wants me to get up at o' dark-thirty because his damn food dish is empty. It wouldn't be so bad but he's wearing heavy boots and stomps a lot. If I ever figure out where he hides those boots ...


The Old Guy said...

Pantaloons do make a statement, don't they? Probably along the lines of "If I'm going to get my feet wet, the plimsoll line best not be higher than the bottom of my pantaloons."

We have a feeder with a reservoir that turns the daily feeding chore into a weekly one. Same with the waterer. And a Litter-Robot. But then, we are tolerated by three cats. It's all a matter of scale. Besides, Ralph would undoubtedly go to the mat with you over food that wasn't fresh from the bag.

Wendy said...

Ralph has grown up to be one handsome moggy. I'd love to see a few more views of him (back or front) if you and His Majesty are so inclined.

Anonymous said...

Now now remember cats have dignity. Or so our daughter said. I find it hard to believe any animal that licks where they do is dignified. lol.

I take it he is behaving like a gentleman inside now.


Anonymous said...

He's become one handsome cat, hasn't he. Some cats are better suited to the semi-outdoor life; Dolly cringes when the wind gusts and, if it keeps on gusting, dashes back indoors. I tell her she's a big wuss.

John B.

Glo said...

I felt like I was right there on the stroll with you two. Wonderful way to start my day! Now where's that head shot??

Dee said...

Ralph isn't picky about "fresh from the bag," Bill, but I had to get rid of the reservoir feeder because, although he eats very little at each visit, he'll keep visiting as long as any food is there at all.

Thanks for the compliment, Wendy. Ralph smiled when I passed it on.

Bonnie, the word that comes to my mind when cats lick their nether ends is not "dignity." What I think of is "flexibility." Of which I have less than I used to, durn it. (Yes, he is minding his manners now.)

Ah, John. Mz. Dolly isn't really a wuss. She simply isn't the wind-blown type. More Grace Kelly than Rita Hayworth, eh? (smile)

You're welcome to join the stroll anytime, Glo. And you don't even have to scrape ice, here. Brrrr!

Kate said...

I see the pantaloons -- Charlie has 'em too. Makes for a much prettier butt, don't they?

Dee said...

Well, certainly a *fluffier* butt, Kate. (grin)