Right outside my back sunporch there is this bushsicle. Faces the glass and metal porch, so I suppose the thaw-and-freeze thing kicked in when the rest of the latest powder snow was just blowing off the shrubbery. It looks bizarre and a little disgusting, like snowman snot.
A little more attractively, but worrisomely, Peachy Kitty showed up in the gloaming to devour all the cheap kibble I had put out for needy passersby. He is an absolute brute. He appears around here rarely enough that I am crossing my fingers he has a home, probably one of the ubiquitous immigrant families, like Torvald’s and Agatha’s in their day, who don’t fix their cats or keep them inside or give a damn if they wander off. Sorry if that sounds bigoted, but whenever I find a neglected cat around here, it turns out to belong to someone who came here from a Central American country and completely doesn’t get it about neutering or basic care. I have vitriolic memories of people in the other half of a duplex I once occupied who left their cat out on a twelve degree night, like this one. When I moved I stole him.
I’m catted up, so if Peachy Kitty really hasn’t got a better place to go to, it looks like I’m going to be splashing out on some lumber and a storage bin for a makeshift feral cat house.