+Reflections upon the weather

I suppose it is part of conventional and polite society to comment upon the weather...and I have found myself upon many past occasions a willing participant. But what I would like to share is my recent shock with the storm that  besieged the Manor. I was quite beside myself this past week when the skies darkened and the rain and wind swept thru the estate. My heart almost exploded when I heard the crash from the master bedroom....Busybody that I am, I darted down the hall to see Lady Ginty jumping from her afternoon slumber and exclaiming something I dare not repeat, gentleman that I am. Apparently, all turned out well and the sunroom ( a place I frequent when I want an alternate litter box and a tranquil private space) was not damaged. But an alarmingly large branch rested uncomfortably close to my sunroom view. I must confess that I am somewhat skittish about this extreme summer weather ...the thundering  and darkness is not in keeping with my sunny disposition. Well, let us be frank ... I have a party cloudy disposition.

Confessions of a Busybody

Some of my followers have asked about my rather long and illustrious history, but I am not quite prepared to debut those memories. My autobiography will be epic and the summer has only started.  But I would like to share with all my followers the delights of being  a lifelong busybody. I know it is a tad sordid, but it has been a delightful way to pass the time. The Manor cats are particularly lively and provide all manners of amusement.  I suppose I am a bit of a gossip as well… for those of you who are unacquainted with the inner workings of Porter Manor, please let me share.  They have fourteen cats that I have counted! Of course, some of them have never been indoors. I could not abide such a situation. But that many are being fed, and,  quite amazingly,  they all are non-reproducing. On any given day, the grey cat named Bailey is mercilessly affronted by any passing cat. I , of course, would not lower myself to such activities. But, I do confess, it is secretly amusing to watch. I scurry right to the action at the first sound of a hiss and confrontation. This activity provides me my daily constitutional  and  exercises my visual and cerebral acuity.( I must work on trimming down my pot belly this summer.) To that end, I must offer encouraging words to Bailey so that she will not give in to her active tormentors and will continue to offer me limitless busybody opportunities.

My summer transformation

I thought it appropriate that I allow my devoted followers to view my before and after portraits. As I said before, I do look ghastly with my shorn locks. But I can tell you that I so enjoyed my time on the porch this afternoon. All my companions were panting and frowning as they sweltered in the heat. Ha!  I was cool as the cucumbers that Lady G. is growing by that atrocious cactus in the front yard. I know a thing or two about landscaping. And while I heartily approve of the herb garden, the cactus is an affrontery. She did imply that she too despised it, but Father Daniel insisted that it stay. That is the ONLY disappointment I have had with him. I suppose I can rise above this slight. He is, after all,  the fellow that keeps my fanny nice and tidy.

My days at Porter Manor

Well, it has been a month now since Mistress Carly left to return to Richmond. I must say I have been challenged by her absence. The manor is much more subdued and I miss the daily toy romping on the floor that I had grown accustomed to. But I will say that Father Daniel has been very attentive to my grooming needs. Alas, I had to return to that wretched vet's office and be drugged and shorn of my silky white locks. I look positively ghastly. But I must say it has made me more comfortable in this beastly weather. I have been more willing to spend more time on the estate grounds of late. However, I was horrified by some of the other felines, particularly the one they call Tucker, when I realized that the high pitched squealing I was hearing from under the front porch was a young squirrel hanging from the mouth of Tucker. I had to retire to the recliner and settle my nerves. But at least I had a good companion there.