Everyone in the neighborhood seems to like our cat, Hobie. We have people driving by our house when he is sitting in the yard, stop their car, and call him. “George!” they say. “What are you doing in the neighbors’ yard? Get home.”
Hobie obligingly wanders over to their car and they take him to their house, only to have him reappear here.
We did in fact get him as a kitten when his name was Oliver. We called him Hobie Cat, after the sailboat. He’s grown into an enormous orange beast with a nicked ear. Quite a mouser, even a ratter at times. Our ivy remains pest free with Hobie around.
One of the neighbors tells us that Hobie shows up every night at happy hour when he and his wife are having a cocktail. They feed him tidbits from their cracker and cheese tray.
Another neighbor tells us that every morning, Hobie is sleeping on their deck and their children let him in for breakfast.
But Hobie’s favorite friend, Katherine, buys him special turkey treats and heats up a blanket in the dryer for him to lie upon.
I can’t say I begrudge the neighbors their time with Hobie. I am happy to share our garden cat. I’m not jealous at all.
Well, a little jealous. I want a heated blanket.
Love your article. I so believe in playtime! It's that vital structure time, when kids or people build themselves. And even if my boys love computer games, they can do other stuff too, probably thanks to their abundant childhood playtime. (They didn't do much computer gaming when they were with us!)
ReplyDelete