|Here I am in paradise. It's a pain getting over here, but from the deck railing in Saltspring, I can see everything .|
|When I get tired of the view, there is almost always an open window so I can climb inside. I don't even have to whine.|
My people are getting sneakier. Usually, I know what's up when I hear "ferry" and "Darcy" and "box," and can plan evasive action. This time, nothing. They just wouldn't let me out for my morning patrol one day. They may have figured out that I understand English.
So, la, la, la. Into the box and into the truck, which still smells of evil dog from its previous owner, who clearly had no taste. I know the routine from then on. It's boring, so I just sleep till we get to the other place.
The other place is kind of like paradise. It has deer, quail, rabbits, snakes and acres of dry grass; I can be a lion stalking the veldt. I caught a snake and brought it into the kitchen, but one of my people screamed and made the other take it out. He had to get it out of my jaws first. Then he threw it into the bush, and I couldn't find it after that. The other excitement was when the black cat came in through the sliding door they open when I do my most annoying whine at 2 a.m. We had a little fuss near the food dish, and after that I didn't see the black cat any more.
|Here I am, patrolling the veldt for whatever is out there. I caught a snake.|
|Out in the wild, I keep my eyes open and my nose sniffing for interesting creatures..|
The best thing about the place is the living room window. They keep it open except for a token few hours at night -- my "prison time" when they won't let me out. (Something about coyotes in Vancouver and sticking to the routine but completely unnecessary.) The window is low enough that I can climb in and out whenever I want. My pedestal (throne) is right in front of it, so I can sit there for hours thinking about the exact right moment to leave. My old neighbour Pancho -- he's gone now -- and I used to take turns going in and out, in and out. He'd eat my food, then I'd go over to his place and eat his food. It worked fine.
|I love my open window.|
|I can keep track of everything in the yard through the open window from the comfort of my pedestal.|
|My wonderful pedestal. It's like my throne.|
|And, totally for my convenience, there is a seat to make it easier for me to climb in and out. My people even put a cushion on it for me.|
It was a mess. They let me out the next morning, but when I came back in a few hours for a little food, bang! The doors and windows shut and I was in prison all day. Worse, after the boring ferry ride home, they wouldn't let me out all night.
Bummer. It took a few days to forgive them, but otherwise, it was a pretty good holiday.
|What I do in prison. My people bring me fresh-cooked chicken in juice so I can eat it on the comfort of the bed where I like to sleep. Notice the fan in the background keeping me cool.|
|Another prison photo, sigh. Here I am, on my people's bed this time, licking my paws after dinner.|
|When I'm in prison, I sometimes allow my people to hold me for awhile. It seems to make them happy.|