I woke up this morning to the sounds of the cats going nuts. Usually they are very active in the morning, wanting to get up for whatver reason, sticking wet noses and whiskers in my face at 6am just to let me know who's in control, perhaps. But this morning they were more frenetic than normal.
I got up walked downstairs and saw that both Mak and Fil were on the condo riveted to something outside and emitting their beliigerent meows, the kind you hear when they want to rip some critter apart. I walked over and saw that there was a huge gray long haired stray cat on my porch peering inside the window and checking them out.
Now, I want to let my guys out. I know they love it. They are jungle cats. And I had high hopes moving here, but I just can't do it.
For one thing, I have to keep their claws trimmed so they don't scratch the shit out of the hard floors (and each other). Then there are just too many other lethal animals in the neighborhood from these strays to the pit bulls. It wouldn't be fair to my guys unarmed into a knife fight. This isn't Alameda anymore. This is Oakland.
And Mak might think he's a devil dog who can run roughshod over his tiny sister, but he's really only a 9 pound cat who hasn't been outside much in the last several years and would get ripped to shreds if he came upon even the most novice of street cats.
Sad to say, but unless I take them out on the leash, my little guys are housebound for the duration.
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