Did you know cats can stomp?

It's true.

For creatures known for stealth that don't speak our language, cats are exceptionally expressive. And opinionated. My dogs are so much more…considerate…it seems. The dogs have learned that the best way to get attention and granted requests is to come, sit, and look cute. A polite touch of the paw on your leg works as well, sort of like saying, "Excuse me." The cat can get a little…stompy, sort of like a scorned teenager without thumbs.

The dogs are really quite patient, and the cat is really quite not. I've previously relayed her list of antics to get me to let her outside into the snow (which she doesn't like). The antics are often preceded by a ritual. It starts with her showing up armed with a moderate to severely judgmental look, as though it's unacceptable I have not read her mind yet

Occasionally, I have; I just decided not to comply. She's learning that the cute factor is a challenging but often more effective strategy. I suspect this is why she added a step where she kneads the couch or blanket next to me aggressively while occasionally and firmly tapping me on the leg. Currently, this is more of an intense strategy than a cute one.

Shortly after she adds just as much claw as she can without being reprimanded for it, she stomps around the house. I hear a herd of small elephants scurry-thwomping through the rooms immediately around me, occasionally knocking things onto the floor. Should I move toward the stairs leading to where her food is kept, she coos and darts in that general direction. Sometimes, she will go downstairs and make some level of ruckus, which Nellie usually tattles on with shrill tones.

A few times, the stomping sounded like a person was in my basement. I actually checked once to be sure I was, in fact, home alone. No, I didn't take the baseball bat (I also don't own a baseball bat).

We live on a dirt road with little traffic, and I know she's pretty fond of being a kept cat. Usually, I'll let her manage her mischief outside if it's not dark yet, even if that's not really what she was asking for.

The real entertainment happens outside. Over time, she has learned that she needs to decide if she's in or out. I'm not going to act like her personal butler and open the door every 3-5 minutes. She was rather persistent but eventually gave up on the intensely demanding stares through the window due to a lack of effectiveness.

When I'm in the garden, it starts with this pathetic cat-er-wauling. She wanders around, wailing as if she's suddenly blind and delirious from the heat. Occasionally, she'll come over and try to look cute, but usually, she just meanders aimlessly and conspicuously about. Just about the time I start to feel sorry for her, she changes tactics. Suddenly, she's stalking things. With a wiggle of her hams and a flick of her tail, she pounces! Except again, I notice the sound of a herd of furry little elephants stomping through the grass. I'm not sure what kind of blind, deaf prey isn't going to hear the leaves and feel the subwoofer thumping on the ground and assume self-preservation measures are necessary.

If you watch the display, the blindness seems to resolve just as she reaches a less noticeable distance from me. Funny how that works.

Tails from the Front Porch

Apparently we are staring right at the halfway point of summer. At least, that’s what they told me when I was a kid. I’m not sure how that happened. I’ve slowed my writing a little to free up time for gardening, hay, and sheep. I plan to pick up the pace a little when a few of those things go dormant with the grass. Until then, check out the links. :)

The Parable of the Sower: Good Soil: We finished our series on the Parable of the Sower as Jesus did, by talking about good soil. So what does good heart-soil look like? What does it do?

Do I Want to Feel Better or Do I Want to Be Better: God gently convicted me while I was reading Ephesians 4. He pointed out some ways that festering bitterness and anger are causing me to sin. I don't want to just feel better, I want to be better. But how?