My life has reached a new low when the most interesting thing to write about is where birds selectively choose to poop. This morning I heard a bang against glass and found a fledgling robin sitting on the deck. Guess what? He knocked the poop out of himself. With that comment, the subject of bird poop now closed.
On a lighter note, we brought Oliver home late Monday afternoon. He was a cat we met at Animal Control in the process of looking for Lost Charlie. He looks a lot like Charlie but not nearly as big and hairy. Also, he doesn’t have Charlie’s outgoing personality, but he didn’t scratch and hiss when I trimmed his toenails on Wednesday. And he likes being brushed, something that Charlie tolerated for 90 seconds.
Oliver is supposed to be a companion to Barbara but she hasn’t warmed to his presence yet. When Oliver explores the house, he is followed by Barbara, followed by me to make sure she doesn’t attack him. If the growling and hissing get too bad I have to relocate her.
We still get phone calls about possible Charlie sightings, but so far, nothing has panned out. It’s been nearly a month. Every time I look out a window, I expect to see him coming across the yard or his furry face looking back at me. I really miss the Chuckster.
Oliver has adapted to his bedroom quite nicely. He has his own bathroom and dining area as well. And of course, he has toys. When I hit Target today, I’ll probably come home with some more. Also, I’m considering one of the cat jungle gyms at PetSmart. They’re pricey but he and Barbara would both enjoy one. She likes high places. When we bring in the 8 foot stepladder, she’s the first one to the top.