The Saturday After Midnight

You could never tell where the kitten

would be sittin’.

He had so many places he liked to hide.

In the summer it was the porch

lying in the shade.

In the winter he found shelter inside.

In the garage there was a heating pad and chair.

And on summer stormy nights

there was a Christmas tree in there,

and he took special comfort from the lights.

We ran them anytime,

when the wind began to whine

or thunder cracked.

And it worked in winter, too,

making him feel that he was warmer than he was.

He loved that tree.

And the shadow from the lights grew longer

as the kittens time grew shorter;

‘til there was an empty place on my porch.

In my garage, the Christmas tree is gone;

the lights only lit the empty spaces in the night.

For Midnight - He was a great cat.

2011-2014 

Second Version

You could never tell
where the kitten would be sittin’.
He had so many places he liked to hide.

In the summer it was the porch
lying in the shade.
In the winter he found shelter on the inside.

In the garage there was a heating pad
and where on certain summer stormy nights,
with the tree ablaze, he would sit and stare,
taking special comfort from the lights.

We ran them anytime, when the wind began to whine
or thunder cracked, and the wind would moan.
And it worked in winter, too, made him feel warmer than he was.
He loved that tree and didn't feel so alone.

But the shadows from the lights grew longer
as the kittens time grew shorter;
‘til there was an empty place on my porch and in my heart.

In my garage, the Christmas tree is gone;
now that his time is done,
they only lit the empty spaces in the night.

A Midnight Tail

I live in a development. We have a home Owner’s Association. Along with all of the usual rules there is one that makes no sense to me at all. It is the rule which forbids screens in the front windows of the houses, as well as barring any screen doors.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I like a bit of fresh air on those rare North Carolina days when the sky is blue and cloudless. More so on the days when there is a nice breeze going. These are the days I like to “air out” the house, placing fans in open windows and letting the breeze course through.

The other day was one of those beautiful days I have just described. I opened every window I could and even one of the front ones without a screen.  Our resident stray, Midnight, was quick to exploit the opening; coming in through the window next to the chair he likes to occupy on our front porch.

I was a bit surprised, as he is not a “house cat” by any means. Also I have severe allergies, so I was a little worried about the effect on me from having him inside. But with such a nice breeze going I thought I’d take a chance and let him stay for a while. He immediately began exploring the premises.

It was about 10 minutes later when I noticed Midnight’s friend “Ghost” had elected to come in through that same window, looking for him. She was shortly joined by her “significant other”; at least when she is not “catting” around with Midnight; “Lucky”, who lives down the street.

Well, before too long I had about 4 cats roaming all over the place, happily purring as I watched them explore every nook and cranny of the house. It was a nice sight, but I had decided; only Midnight would be staying. The others would have to go. After all, they have homes; unlike Midnight; who lives on my porch or in the garage, depending upon the weather.

To this end, Midnight was already marking territory in the living room near the fireplace. I guess even on such a nice, balmy day he was thinking of where he would be spending his winter. I hustled the other cats outside and closed the windows after them. Now it was just me and Midnight. I was ecstatic.

But I was suddenly seized with panic as I realized that he simply could not stay due to my allergies.  Already my asthma was kicking in big time. Accordingly, I went to pick him up and place him outside. This was getting to be like a bad dream; he had to go! And when I awoke, I was already reaching for my inhaler…

Midnight "went away" for the last time last weekend- this draft was written just a few days before he had to go. I really miss him.

Midnight - Hand to Mouth

Midnight has always wanted an opposable thumb. He has been watching me carefully for the past 3 years and has noticed the miracles that I can perform with that remarkable appendage. And he wants one; badly. This sequence of him eating lunch on the patio yesterday illustrates my point.

Here he has just gotten his midday bowl of tuna and is reaching in for one of the first delicious paw-fulls. Notice the intense concentration as he attempts to successfully fish one out. The scraps of tuna lying about in the foreground are testament to the inexact results of his efforts.

Having successfully gotten some tuna in his paw, he is now going to maneuver the food to his mouth. You can just see the tip of his tongue, which will be an important part of this process.

Curling is not just a sport to Midnight. It is the critical, final movement necessary to getting the food into his mouth. Again, notice the assist from his tongue.

And here he is, at the finish line so to speak. I call this his “Politician’s Pose.” He has his foot in his mouth. Wait; that's not quite fair to the cat!

The Cardinals Nest

For whatever reason, our homes have always attracted various animals. Squirrels, doves, wrens, lizards, turtles, frogs, and even Midnight the cat, have all made themselves comfortable with us over the years. But the latest addition is really exceptional.

A family of cardinals has just taken up lodgings in the creeping vine which grows between the back porch and the downspout. They are only feet from me when I sit out back to play music, or just to lie in the sun. I usually find the chirping of birds distracting, especially if I can’t see them, but this family; let’s call them a Council of Cardinals; are exceptionally entertaining.

They are currently in the process of moving in and building their nest, and it seems that everyone in the family has a job to do. So far as I can tell, the family consists of three; so far no sign of Papa. So, basically it’s Mama and her two hatchlings doing all the work.

They fly in with material and then turn right back around after dropping it off. After several sorties they all congregate inside the vine, atop the rain gate , and then there is  incessant chirping as they each debate their own visions about how the nest should be constructed. In the end, I’m sure, Mama will win out.

They’re still a bit wary of me; it’s probably the banging of the screen door as I go in and out which startles them. They are probably wondering who the hell I think I am, living on the side of their new home? But they tolerate me. After all, the cat is friendly and when the bird feeder next door at Chip and Anne’s is empty, they can always wing over to Midnight's bowl for some cat food. In a unique sort of way, it’s a self-sustaining eco-system. It should last forever. Well; as long as I supply the cat food.

If you enjoyed this story about the wildlife in my backyard, you might also enjoy this true, but sad story from 2011;

http://robertwilliamsofbrooklyn.blogspot.com/2011/03/lovers.html

Midnight - Life on the Mean Streets

Just a quick look at these 2 photographs will give you a rough idea of what life as a stray cat is like. When he was first abandoned near our house, Midnight was a cute little fellow, with a purr-fect face and a meow to match. There was an innocence behind his eyes.

Here it is, almost 3 years later, and his voice is shot, and his face is scarred in several spots. There are also wounds to his ears and sides. The innocence has been replaced with a certain wariness. In short; he has had a thin time of it.

He has become even more feral in nature; never trying to come into the house at all; although he still allows himself to be brushed and occasionally tolerates being petted. This is a photo I took today. It's rare that he lets me photograph him close up anymore. Since his recent fights he has become increasingly camera shy, although he has healed nicely. He looks kind of like Keith Richards. "Torn and Frayed."

I wonder, what is the nature of the bond that has formed between us? We both have scars; and we both don’t always feel well. Beyond that we have little in common aside from the need to know that we are there for one another.

He uses me for food; that’s true. But he can get along without me. He sometimes stays away for several days and seems to survive. He might be a bit more hungry than usual upon his return, but you know what they say about lean freedom being better than fat slavery.

He looks at the house cats in the windows with disdain. And he scorns the ones that go in and out of their little cat doors. But, then he also steals their food on occasion.

When I go out for my morning paper I am not at my best. I have to adjust to the day. And there’s Midnight; lying by the front door; trying to stay awake for his “dinner” before he sleeps off whatever it is that he just done did last night.

Midnight - The Fight Goes On

They say that cats have nine lives and I’m beginning to worry about Midnight. He’s on about number 5 right now, as far as I can tell. Two flights with the hawks and now 3 with the big Tabby up the street.

On behalf of said Tabby, Midnight has been where he shouldn't be in relation to visiting “Ghost”, the local feline slut who sashay’s throughout the neighborhood, exciting all the boy cats. They should know better, but at the same time, she knows just what she’s doing.

I've tried talking to Midnight about this constant fighting, but he just looks at me with those eyes. And then I give him tuna. The fights make him a bit skittish immediately afterwards, but by the next can of tuna he’s ready to go again!

Sometimes I have to put some crushed Penicillin in his food to make sure his wounds don’t get infected. About 100 mg’s usually does the trick. I crush the tablet in a spoon.

I really love this guy, but I wish he would stop fighting. Perhaps I would find it less of a problem if he were winning; but that doesn't seem to be the case. So I’ll just stock up on tuna and Penicillin, hoping for the best.

Death from Above - A "Midnight" Story

This is a story about the cat who adopted us. His name is Midnight and he gets into all kinds of stuff he shouldn’t. For instance, there are several “strays” on my street; and even some “housecats”; but Midnight is the only one among them who can actually claim to have flown. Not once; but twice.

Now, there may be a cat somewhere in the neighborhood that has been “transported” via plane while locked in a cat carrier; but that hardly qualifies as real flying. Midnight has actually flown; although his 2 flights were mostly freefall. Let me recap those adventures and explain the picture above, which is the result of his 2nd; and latest; “solo.”

Midnight’s first flight occurred in the middle of the afternoon. He was traversing the open area in back of our house; which is about the length of two football fields; when a large shadow loomed over him; and then; in an instant; lifted him off the ground; higher than he had ever been.

A hawk had been circling overhead, and with his infra-red, heat sensing capabilities, said hawk spotted Midnight and came roaring down to snatch him up for a meal. Luckily we feed him too much; he is very spoiled; and so the hawk was unable to hold him for more than about 200 feet horizontally, and about 40 feet vertically. Midnight was very spooked by the whole thing and I have to say that he put up as much of a fight as one can while being suspended by the scruff of your neck 40 feet in the air.

In the end his first flight lasted about as long as the Wright Brothers did at Kitty Hawk. The only real difference is that I had no camera at hand. Midnight suffered a torn ear which has never really healed properly; causing him to have a very strange “meow” as a result of some hearing loss. Doesn’t matter; he still lets us know when he’s hungry. He just doesn’t play in the back anymore.

Now; as for the picture above; we are actually only guessing that this latest injury was the result of another “air raid.” We’re basing that premise on the fact that if it wasn’t a bird which attacked him, then it would have to have been a very large coyote; about as big as a Great Dane; or a bear so weak that when he bit Midnight’s head he didn’t quite break the skin; just ripped off all his fur and left two white patches of skin, which have swelled a bit. I’m betting on the hawk.

Midnight’s reaction to this latest outrage has been pretty interesting. He came home and ate a tremendous amount of food; which is not all that unusual when he has been out all night. Then he went to sleep; waking up to be sick. He actually left the garage so as not to make a mess. “Bless his little heart”; as we say here in Dixie. Then he wouldn’t eat for a day or so, before disappearing again; with Sue and I thinking he had gone off somewhere to die.

Well, I guess we were wrong; or maybe it was the fact that we bought him a new bag of food and some tuna, betting against the odds that he wouldn’t return. At any rate, he came home the next day; along with his appetite. And we were really glad to see him.

He depends upon us for so much. He doesn’t know how to kill or hunt. He watches birds take the food from his bowl. He plays with grasshoppers; swatting them with his closed paws; gently prodding them so that they will hop. He’s basically helpless. So, he really needs us to survive. And when he’s gone; we realize how much we need him, too. I wish he could read this, just to know how important he has become…

Non Aggressive Cats - An Absurd Notion

Last week I read something so absurd that I am afraid to pass it on lest I incur the wrath of those who love cats; the animals, not the show. The article in question here was located in my local newspaper on the science page, if that tells you anything.

Basically speaking the article came to the conclusion that cats see human beings as “non-aggressive cats” and show that affection by rubbing against you to clean themselves; as they might with another cat; or the posture of their tails. Rubbish.

There is no way my cat considers me to be anything other than an upright, knuckle dragging, mouth breathing, possessor of opposable thumbs who lives in a heated home and drives a car far, far away to unknown locations, in order to get cans of tuna fish, which I then proceed to open with those incredible thumbs of mine to feed him with.

Anything else is mere conjecture, or simply rubbish. In addition, Midnight feels that it may be actionable.

Midnight and the Great Pumpkin

Every year at this time Midnight gets a bit nervous. The appearance of the Pumpkins is his first clue that something major is about to happen. Then the Witches and Goblins appear, followed closely by the dreaded Trick or Treaters, who completely baffle him. He usually hides just out of sight to watch this annual parade of the dead and undead. He sees lots of things going into their sacks, but nothing ever comes back out. That is frightening to him.

Midnight is an asset to my blog. He gets fan mail. Really! And these people expect answers to their notes. Most of the time I answer for him, as his paw printing is still not what it should be. He is, after all is said and done, a stray. And getting him to attend school on a regular basis is somewhat akin to trying the same thing with Huck Finn; that is; it’s just not going to happen. So I write something nice and just affix his paw print to it before sending it on.

But, for all of his skittishness concerning the Halloween ritual, he is always back at his post, sitting on the porch at about midnight; the hour for which he is named; waiting, like Linus, for the arrival of the Great Pumpkin. It hasn’t happened yet, but when it does Midnight intends on being there to greet him.

Midnight and the Grasshopper

Midnight has been hanging around our house for a bit over 2 years now. He has weathered the heat of 2 summers, along with the biting cold of 2 winters. Honestly, I don’t know how he does it. Basically, he’s homeless and relies upon Sue and I to provide him with the dry food and tuna fish on which he subsists. He has no instinct when it comes to killing something to eat, so I am locked into this relationship with him. After all, it was I who fed him in the first place. What’s that saying about “if you save someone’s life you are responsible for it?” Well, I’m living it.

Midnight makes friends very easily. He has no one except for me and Sue to play with; meaning that he’s pretty much on his own. So, he has some unusual friends for a cat. There’s this grasshopper for starters; which he enjoys swatting with his paw. Notice how his claws; which are not trimmed; are curled in so he can play with his friend without inflicting any damage. No matter though, the grasshopper is free to hop away at any time, leaving Midnight to search for it in the bushes. He also plays with the little green frogs in this same manner.

Then there’s the matter of the birds; with whom he has become overly friendly; allowing them to eat from his dry food bowl, and even take some home with them; while he sits, or lays, only inches away watching them come and go like planes at JFK. He knows more food is coming, and besides, he doesn't pay for it. But even if he did he would probably still share his food with his feathered friends. I think he’s hoping that they will someday teach him how to fly.

Here he is, looking for a cricket in the thicket...

Friday the 13th

Due to the possibility of something going amiss for the 13^th, I have elected to post the following, which has no value or purpose, meaning that perhaps nobody will stop by here today. So, good luck, don’t walk under any ladders and don’t let my black cat, Midnight, cross your path. As a matter of fact, I will be spending a good portion of the day avoiding him just to be safe.

Superstition may be just that, superstition. But mix it in with a few coincidences and you have what seemingly become facts.  So, I neither flaunt, nor embrace superstition. I do my best to ignore it. That’s why I’m not posting today; because I don’t believe that anything will go wrong. It’s just that sometimes I get this funny little feeling…

Midnight Wakes

This is Midnight sleeping in what I call the "Galloping Horse" position. It means he is warm and feels safe enough to be sound asleep. The fact that he feels this way about my front porch makes me very proud, and happy. I can always count on him to be there when I get up from my mid-morning nap; he naps at about the same time that I do. But he stays out late at night, so I let him sleep until around noon.

And this is Midnight as he becomes aware of my presence. He used to simply jump up and run away; like greased lightning; but that was a while back. We have settled into an easy routine with one another, and he even trusts me enough to let me brush him with a corn broom. (I can't use a regular hair brush due to my allergies to him.) All in all, it's a nice friendship. Except for one thing;

I don't know whether this is a typical cat "yawn", or if he is just trying to tell me to go away and leave him alone. Perhaps it's the "roar of the jungle", which still runs in his veins...

Midnight

Midnight has been hanging around our house for about a year and a half now, with no signs of ever leaving us completely. Sure, he goes “missing” for a day or two from time to time, but he always manages to make his way back to our front porch and his preferred meal of chunk light tuna fish. His dry food bowl is always full, for those times when he arrives “home” at 3 in the morning, reeling from a night of carousing.

But, most importantly, Midnight has become my friend, at a time when real friends have grown increasingly scarce. I live in a kind of insular world; a way, I suppose, of protecting myself from others. Midnight is much the same as I am in this respect. He has few friends, but the ones that are there for him, really are there for him.

I'm highly allergic to cats; just as Midnight is allergic to most human beings; which makes him the "purr"fect pet. (Forgive the pun – Midnight couldn't resist it.) Occasionally he walks into the house, though never venturing further than the front hallway rug. He seems to sense that there is a boundary there. Well, actually he knows better than to come in at all, but every now and again curiosity gets the better of him, and so in he comes. He hasn't heard about curiosity killing the cat and I’m not going to be the one to tell him!

I like his spirit and even his aloof attitude, which he recently displayed toward my wife Sue when he simply turned his back and walked away from her when she was offering him a treat. Sue has still not gotten completely over the snub, and I’m still laughing.

But even deeper than all the social interaction between us is a darker connection; he was abandoned by the human family where he was born. He just appeared suddenly one day; homeless; with no skills to survive in the “world.” Kind of like me when I was about 17 and my parents threw me out. But, just as I did, he has learned to survive, and in some ways even prosper. In that last respect he may already have overtaken me, as I still pay for my own food. But he earns his keep.

Every time he pokes his face up against the little side window on the front door he makes me smile. No matter what is happening at the time, in that brief flicker of a moment, he can make me smile. We're fiends; he cares; and that’s all he ever has to do to make a living here.

Midnight - Cat Napping at Noon

This is Midnight, doing what he does best, which is sleeping. That is when he's not eating. It's a lazy day with just a hint of Spring coming and he knows it. Gone are the cold winter nights and the chill of the days. This is life as it was meant to be lived; curled up, dead to the world; basking in the relative warmth of the afternoon.

It's not easy being a cat; especially my cat. He never gets to come inside; no pun intended, as he is a real life "tomcat"; he has no real friends and is always on the lookout for the coyotes and other airborne predators which inhabit the same world as he does. We have reached a mutual understanding, with respect for one another's quirks. He has come into the house a few times; but just as quick as Huckleberry Finn could shuck a pair of shoes, he was gone. His favorite song has got to be "Don't Fence me In."

I'm terribly allergic to cats, and do all I can to stay away from them. But this guy captured my heart about a year and a half ago when someone abandoned him and he needed to be fed. The neighbors all warned me, but I wouldn't listen. No matter, I needed a friend. And each morning; although he still does not bring me my paper; he is at the door waiting for his tuna, having eaten all his dry food during the earlier hours. And each morning I fill it back up.

About 9:30 we both take a nap; he sleeps on the porch while I retire to the bedroom. And when I wake up, he is almost always awake and waiting for me to brush his fur with a corn broom. That's about as close as I can get to petting him. But through the handle of that broom Midnight and I have formed an unlikely bond. He depends upon me to feed him; I just depend upon his being there. And you know, we never let one another down.

New Car, Fording a Stream, Graveyard and the Cat

Old cars; like people; wear out with age, necessitating our looking for a new car. Or, to be more accurate; a new used car to fit our budget. We picked up this incredibly clean and rec-conditioned Toyota Corolla, in large part because it felt so familiar to us from the moment we sat in it. We have owned Toyota's for many years, and even with the occasional problem, have found them to be reliable

Now, when road testing a new car; used or otherwise; it is important to learn the limitations of your machine. So, to that end, we drove to Chapel Hill; which is about 2 hours away; to see our daughter and ford a stream. It did seem a bit ironic to “ford” a stream in a Japanese car, but it was a pretty day with just a bit of snow left over on some of the grassy areas making the day seem a little more special.

The stream is located just near this gravesite, which is the resting place for the original Morgan and Mason families. I wasn’t really paying attention to the specifics of the place, so I don’t know who they were. The magnolias were fresh and crisp, as they always are in North Carolina at this time of year. They are such stately trees, and I couldn’t help but think about those who lie beneath the ground, and wonder if they had become part of those trees. That’s where I want to go when my time comes. To become part of a tree seems a fitting way to leave something positive and alive behind when you have passed on. In a way, it’s a form of immortality, standing with leafy arms outstretched, providing shade and fragrant blossoms for the living.

Meantime; back home; the cat waits, sitting in the flower pot on our neighbor’s porch, watching and waiting for our return home. He worries about us, he cares about us, he frets when we are late. He wants his tuna fish.

Midnight and the Great Pumpkin

 

Midnight will be celebrating his second Halloween with us this year. He is eagerly awaiting the arrival of the neighborhood children, dressed as ghosts and goblins. He’s not really sure what it’s all about; and I think all the commotion kind of scares him a bit; but he does take an active interest in the proceedings. He will be found; I’m sure; waiting in the bushes, alternately leaping out to frighten someone, or just to check them out. He is especially partial to Princesses and Pirates.

And, when all the tricksters have retreated from the street, you will find him patiently awaiting the arrival of the Great Pumpkin; who will undoubtedly treat him to a can of salmon as a reward for being so brave on a night when black cats generally make themselves scarce.

The Cat House

Midnight, our resident stray, has a new home. After over a year of trying to make him comfortable; while at the same time taking care of my own allergic reactions to him; he finally has a better home than he did for the last winter. At that time he was living in our garage on an old bedspread with a heating pad to help him keep warm. This year the heating pad will be located at one end of his wicker home, and connected to a timer, which will offer him a few options in relation to how much heat he actually wants.

It’s been a year in which we have come to know one another a bit better, each respecting the others limitations and idiosyncrasies more than we first did. For instance; I now know that he strikes me with his paw as a sign of affection after I stop playing with him; while he has learned to not use his claws on me. Since he does live outdoors I cannot have his nails clipped, as that would leave him defenseless.

He has also learned not to wander too far from home, stranding himself in other people’s garages without food or water for several days. He has also learned not to cross the big open yard in back of our house which makes him a convenient target for the many hawks in the area. Last year he was actually swept up by one of these aerial predators. It was a short flight which left his ear damaged from the hawk’s talons. It actually changed the pitch of his “meow.”

The new home is of wicker construction, and was acquired by Sue at a yard sale for less than one dollar. I had already purchased a “cat bed” for him, complete with catnip, but he just kind of looked at it in a curious manner. He never even tried to lie down in it.

By contrast, from the moment Sue bought this wicker palace home, Midnight was very much interested in it. There is even a sun roof for him on top to use on nicer days. Currently, we are furnishing the inside, using Snoopy's doghouse as a guide for what Midnight might like. A small pool table is not out of reach; and a transistor radio or tummy TV is certainly affordable. But the Van Gogh is definitely out.

Midnight - For God and Country

Midnight, the community cat, could have been in the Navy. He is capable of sleeping anywhere, at any time. Here he is, asleep at 5 in the afternoon, after a grueling day of sleeping elsewhere around the yard. Hey, nobody said it would be easy.

Sometimes he sleeps on the concrete for the warmth; and at other times he sleeps there for the coolness of it; as in temperature wise; he already knows he’s cool. This photo is not staged in any way. I did not remove the winde bottle from between his paws, or anything like that. It’s just Midnight doing what he does best.

He began to stay with us about a year ago, and is now pretty much a fixture around our house; though he still does sleep on a neighbor’s porch occasionally, which makes me a bit jealous. I mean, I am the one who feeds him!

Though I’m allergic to him; and don’t generally even like cats; Midnight has grown to be a welcome sight each morning when I go to get the paper. He meows at me, and foolishly, I meow back. We have an understanding, of sorts. I think.

He cowers to the thunder and lightning, taking refuge in my garage where I visit with him every 30 minutes or so, just to let him know it’s going to be okay. Really, I’m looking to him for some reassurance; figuring cats have an extra sense when it comes to impending disasters like floods, etc. I may feed him today, but he just may save me some time in the future. You never can tell.

Well, I had better go check on Midnight, it’s been about an hour since I took that photo, and he’s probably getting ready to go out and wreck some other poor cats home. Hey, it wouldn’t be the first time.

"Midnight's Blues"

“Midnight’s Blues”

CFG
I got a cat named Midnight
He just loves to roam
I got a cat named Midnight
He just loves to roam
But it’s past 12:30
And he still ain’t home.

I got your can of tuna
Waiting by the door.
I got your can of tuna
Waiting by the door.
I’d gladly feed you baby
If you’d come home once more.

FC/ G
Seen you in the moonlight slinking around
Seen you in daytime sleeping so sound.
Seen you in the sunshine and out in the rain
I just wish you’d come home again.

CFG
I seen you down the street
With the big white cat
I seen you down the street
With the big white cat.
I don't care who you been with,
I just want you to come back.

I got a cat named Midnight
He just loves to roam
I got a cat named Midnight
He just loves to roam
But it’s past 12:30
And he still ain’t home.

Midnight - The Community Cat

We have grown accustomed to feeding the community cat, "Midnight", aka "Meow", and have reported here on his wanderings before. Along with Sue and I, our neighbors have been pretty good at letting Midnight come and go wherever, and whenever, it pleases him. He just doesn't get to live indoors. C'est la vie. In return though, he has a sense of independence which is unknown to all of the other "house cats" in the neighborhood; you know the type; the ones with the cute little "cat" doors on the back porch. They don't have to worry about where their next meal is coming from. They have it made, and they know it, too.

Midnight, on the other hand, has no escape door, no refuge; save for the few wits he does seem to possess; and yet he has managed to survive the winter relatively unscathed. He has left our garage now, with its heating pad and blanket, opting instead for our neighbor Linda's wicker front porch sofa. And now, he has stumped us all by taking his afternoon "cat naps" in her earth filled pot, which sits next to the sofa. We can only surmise that after watching the birds nesting, his paternal instincts have kicked in, and he is patiently "nesting" on his own, just as they do. They sit for a few days, and when they get up, little birds fly out, so why not kittens? It sounds stupid, I know. But, absent any other explanation I'm going with this one for now. I'll let you know what happens, or not, as soon as it does, or doesn't.