I spotted Torvald this morning for the first time since, I think, late June. Since his early-spring day trip on my property, when he spent hours talking to my cats through the porch screen, he’s barely been sighted except for a couple of early-morning scamper-bys, always in the best weather. There hasn’t been much of that.
I leave water out in the heat, just in case any critter happens through the yard with a thirst, but I haven’t seen him near the bowl and I gave over putting out any kibble after a couple of obvious raccoon raids. This morning, though, I was checking the birdbath water level and a mighty commotion by the fence made me snap around and say “Damn! that’s a big squirrel!” while I was already starting to think — oh! Torvald!
By the time I got the idea his explosive gray tail, for all the world like a squirrel’s on ‘roids, was under the paling fence and away across the neighboring yard. A noisy but more or less inoffensive Dachshund lives over there. If I were a cat I would taunt it.
I can’t quite scope this. He’s not attracted enough to food to be a stray, and I suspect he only goes outside periodically, but why only on perfect beautiful days? “Oh, honey, what a pretty day it is outside. Let’s let the cat go out.” On the other hand, if he still has his nuts and still wants to be friends, at some point I may decide I have the right to consider him a stray.
I stuck the dishes down at the lower end of the garden, near the gap under the fence.