I live like a monk. A very contemplative life. I don't work much, though.
That's the keeper's domain. But I sit on this perch a lot, watch Hunter and that gray cat sneaking in to the yard. I watch the hummingbirds at the feeder and the other birds, including that noisy Bluejay family at the suet blocks. I watch the squirrels drain the hummingbird feeders in several gulps and shake the suet out the feeder onto the ground. They are such smart bullies. And when the keeper gets home I try to tell her all these things. But really, for one who is generally adept with language, she sure doesn't understand mine. She thinks every meow means "Feed me!" She misses so much.
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