“Freddie, get off, it’s too hot.”
He yawned and stretched, then rested his chin on my ankle. I sighed. He was not concerned about my comfort.
I had done my best to get comfortable. My shoes and pants had been discarded and I had a tall glass of ice water on the table next to me. We were both stretched out on the couch, me with my feet up on the reclined leg rest, and him draped between and over my legs.
I was sweating.
I picked up my phone and scrolled through twitter, trying to take my mind off my discomfort. “Huh,” I said after a few minutes.
He didn’t move except for one ear, which turned like a satellite dish toward me. “It’s Autumn,” I said. “Summer is over.” His ear turned back toward his front.
I lifted one leg, trying to unglue it from the hot leather.
A gentle reminder of how we do things: 🐱🐶🐦
- Do not troll the diary. If you hate pootie diaries, leave now. No harm, no foul.
- Please do share pics of your fur kids! If you have health/behavior issues with your pets, feel free to bring it to the community.
- Pooties are cats; Woozles are dogs. Birds... are birds! Peeps are people.
- Whatever happens in the outer blog STAYS in the outer blog. If you’re having “issues” with another Kossack, keep it “out there.” This is a place to relax and play; please treat it accordingly.
- There are some pics we never post: snakes, creepy crawlies, any and all photos that depict or encourage human cruelty toward animals. These are considered “out of bounds” and will not be tolerated. If we alert you to it, please remember that we do have phobic peeps who react strongly to them. If you keep posting banned pics...well then...the Tigress will have to take matters in hand. Or, paw.
Disturbed, Freddie stood and stretched. “Don't go!” I said, reaching out with one hand toward him. It was hot, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want a good cuddle.
To my relief, he turned and walked over me to settle on the couch next to me. I let him, then started petting him. “You’re a good boy,” I said.
“I know,” he agreed.
I wiped sweat from my brow with my free hand and looked at it.
“I thought when summer was over it wasn’t supposed to be hot anymore,” he observed.
I shrugged. “California,” I said, simply.
“So it’s time for ghosts and vacuums,” Freddie said.
I nodded. “And pumpkin spice. And regular pumpkin.”
“And that thing on the stairs,” he added.
I looked at him and saw he was watching the stairs, fully alert. I looked over and saw nothing. “What thing?”
“It’s probably not important,” he said, relaxing again.
I didn’t have the energy to get too worked up. It was too warm for that. “I think I have some fall leaf garland in the garage. I should get it and put it up,” I mused.
“What is fall leaf? Is it catnip?”
“During autumn, the leaves on some trees turn orange and brown before they fall off for the winter.”
He turned and looked at the backyard.
“Well. Not here. But in other places that happens.”
I sat up and grimaced at the wetness on my back. Sweating during exercise was one thing — I even liked that — but sweat while sitting and moving as little as possible was unbearable. “Ugh,” I said, grabbing the hem of my shirt and billowing it away from my skin.
I looked over at him. “You don’t sweat, huh?”
“My paws do,” he said, turning one over and examining the pad. He gave it a lick.
“Gross,” I said. I leaned back again, grimacing as my damp shirt made contact with my skin. “I’d make some pumpkin bread, but I don't want to turn on the oven.”
“You should make some catnip bread,” he suggested, lazily. “With extra tuna.”
I laughed. “That’s disgusting.”
“You won’t know unless you try it.”
“It’ll stop being hot soon,” I wished aloud. I picked up my phone and opened my weather app. “Shoot,” I said, looking at the ten day forecast. I dropped my phone back on the table and looked over at my sweet cat. “It’s not going to stop being hot soon,” I reported.
“I’ll just sleep through it,” he said.
“And dream of lizards and hummingbirds?”
“That would be better than the thing on the stairs.”
I whipped around and looked. Still nothing there.
“You really don’t see it?” he asked.
“What is it,” I whispered. “Is it watching me?”
“I don’t pay that much attention to it,” he said, closing his eyes.
“You would tell me if I were in danger, right?”
“I’m not a dog.”
“I don’t know what a pumpkin is,” Freddie announced.
I frowned at him. “Really? We’ve had them around this time of year. You’ve seen, smelled, and even tasted pumpkin.”
He thought about it. “No, I don’t think so.”
“We bought pumpkins early last year. They sat on the floor next to the front door for like six weeks. I know for a fact that you inspected them multiple times.”
“I would remember that.”
“I’ve given you wet food with pumpkin in it!”
“I probably didn’t eat it.”
“Yeah, you must not have because I don’t still buy it,” I conceded. “But I know you’ve at least smelled it!”
“That’s not true,” he said, calmly.
I huffed out a breath. “Well, you’ll get to see them soon enough,” I said, shifting uncomfortably against the hot surface of the couch. “It’s autumn, after all.”
“I don’t think summer is over,” Freddie said. “You explained this to me and it’s hot in the summer and in the fall the leaves turn to catnip.” He looked out the window. “I don't see any catnip and it’s very hot.”
“There’s no catnip in the backyard. It’s on the sink.”
He gave me a hopeful look.
“Later,” I said. “It’s fall because the equinox happened and now the nights are longer than the days. It’s still hot because California is always hot in September.”
“No, I don't think any of that is right.”
“You are awfully argumentative today,” I said, giving him a mock frown.
“I get argumentative in the summer,” he sniffed.
Happy Caturday, Peeps! It’s got to be getting cooler somewhere, right?