Another bout of wild weather forced Figaro to spend a night indoors this week.
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As the cold of winter breaks, our boys returned to their routine of soaking in the sun. Here, Harley and Figaro enjoy the afternoon warmth. The next day, it snowed, and they lost their s***.
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After a heavy rain, my wife flips up the deck cushions to help them dry out. Harley does not abide.
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Sharing a solo shot of Harley this morning, curled up next to me one morning this week, finally able to not panic when I need to get by him. His adoption of us has been glacial.
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Neither rain nor sleet nor more rain will keep Figaro from owning his water dish. He normally lies flat to drink but out on the wet desk in drizzling rain, he is carefully crouched around the dish overflowing with rain water.
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Fig has started to return the favor in Harley’s game of “I’m not touching you.” He doesn’t follow Harley around, but he does join him for a nap at foreleg’s length at times.
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This week, Figaro has decided the best spot on the sofa is my spot on the sofa. He practically taunts me by grabbing the spot in the morning and evening. Fortunately, he leaves enough space for me to sit, allowing me to slowly squeeze him out and invite him to leave of his own accord.
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We made it through the week’s cold spell without incident and through the aftermath of these cats insisting on going out before quickly regretting it.
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Our boy Pip emerged from his drug induced isolation the night after last week’s post, happy to be back in his mama’s lap. He acknowledged my presence as well.
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Our boy Pip went in for dental work this week (photo here from before this week) and was given pain treatment that lasts for days. We sequestered him to our bedroom since his return, and he has chosen to further isolate himself, hiding under the bed and other furnishings. He pops out to eat and relieve himself when we’re not around, and he purrs when we rub his head, but he’s not over it yet.
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