A gray catbird outside the kitchen window catches Little Cat's eye in the early morning light. Click on above image for larger-than-life image of the cat who came to stay. We've tried Tillie (Little Miss Atilla the Hon) and Cleo (note Egyptian profile), but we think Little Cat's the one.
New worlds opened for the Little Kitteh that came to dinner when we screened the kitchen window for the season. She'd shown up on our doorstep just before Christmas Thanksgiving (Thanks, Tuck, for the correction). Now that our angel baby's gone, it's up to TLK to mend our breaking hearts. Fun and funny and totally fruity feline. Attacks your entire leg when you walk by, suddenly switches gears during a head rub and goes for the jugular.
First retrieving cat we've ever known. You throw a superball down the hallway and Little Cat leaps and bounds and brings it back in the jaws, dropping it, with a challenging "meowl," at your feet. If you're not alert enough to engage in replay, she takes it to the top of the cellar stairs and pushes it down for further self-initiated retrieving.
Update from our imail correspondent:
The Kitteh Who Came In From The Cold, and warmed the hearts of the bereft.
And I don’t begrudge Nardo when he announces his arrival on the bed, pokes my hand with his nose, barks a little more, parks himself on my chest, stares me down, and tells me I haven’t met my petting-quota quite just yet.
Because one day, there won’t be any more quotas to fill or time left to fill them in.
Light of my life, but give me some down time on the nest, sweetbeak.
When love comes so strong …
Firsthatched moved beyond the brooding breast this afternoon toward the outer parts of the nest to peck away at the carcass of the crow brought in yesterday without the intercession of the parental beak to beak. They grow up so fast. Two eaglets, one egg to go.
The bald eagles of Decorah, Iowa, have landed and won the hearts and minds of a grateful nation. We've had the RaptorResource UStream live cam on the desktop since yesterday afternoon. There were three eggs in the nest last night, then two eggs, one shattered shell and a brand new eaglet (see below) early morning.
"Baby inspects roses from Goomp that arrived this morning," we captioned this image six years ago today in our March 25, 2005 post "64 years ago today."
"70 years ago today we drove through snow and sleet to get married. Love, Dad," says the card accompanying a lovely "presentation bouquet" of pink roses — garnished with eucalyptus sprigs, asparagus fern and baby's breath — from Goomp. The occasion? The anniversary of his romantic elopement with our mother when they were just a couple of college kids in love. They drove from Medford, MA to Manchester, NH and returned to their Tufts dormitory rooms the same evening. Their first night together as Mr. and Mrs. had to wait until the following weekend. The rest is history. Thanks, Goomp, for blessing us with your sentimental and enduring love for Mummy.
"I wish she were here," he just i-mailed us a moment ago. As we wrote in our December 7, 2004 post "A most incandescent light":
In her family's heart Mary lives on, beckoning us all to be the best that we can be.