Work: AM heat therapy/EVE brief dust-off during blanket swap.
Report: Too cold to stay outside for anything else. I’ve become such a weather weenie, you’d never guess I went to school in New Hampshire.
Ramblings: I am a cat person. It is only with great restraint that I do not tip over into Crazy Cat Lady. My morning feeding routine used to include time with my fluffy wannabe* barn cat Arthur. He would sit on my lap to engage in mutual contemplation of his vast wonderfulness. Even more than most cats, Arthur lives in an Arthur-shaped universe. This would last until Rodney came over. (Mostly he wants to go eat the mare’s food. But as long as he’s waiting, I can make with the skratchies.) This chased the cat off. Apparently an extreme size differential skews the predator/prey equation.
I am not a dog person. Although Greg did not come with dog, he came advertised as a card-carrying dog person. So, I have been living with 1 to 3 dogs since the early 90s. His newest dog has decided that I am the source of all joy and light. She must be near me. This includes sitting in my lap when stressed, which is quite a trick for a 75lb German Shepherd. She is sitting under my desk, at my feet, doing the loyal dog thing as I type this. Where I go, she goes, including the barn. In addition, our seriously senior Lab-cross has decided that if this interloper is going to be a barn dog, he must now be one as well, and wobbles out to the barn with us. So, every time I go outside, the cat lover is surrounded by a dog pack. The cats head for the high ground. Sigh.
*Arthur’s barn-catness is weather dependent. A true B.C. has to be forcibly hauled inside during bad weather.
Who are your barn dogs?