Living in wine tasters heaven, as I do in the wondrous
fingerlakes region, we roll with the seasons. In the Fall,
there is a big rodent turnover. The New York City rats
close up their cottages and return to the socialist rat nest
to become urban prey. The red squirrels, chipmunks, deer
mice, field mice and the occasional barn rat all move up
to the farmhouse where they join with the house mice and
plan for Thanksgiving. A wonderful time is being had by all,
but as the day is almost upon us it is getting quite boisterous.
As apéritifs are out of the question, but willing to entertain,
I set out some canapé of solid block rat poison in the garage
and pantry, and started thinking about a cat. Consulting
Angie's list, I see a Colorado stoner cat that goes by the
monicker Mr Meowgi, who is willing to relocate from his
mother's basement, where he has lived since he graduated
U of C. He says his mother passed up on a chance to get
50 coupons for free towards StarKist Tuna, in cans or pouch.
He's so miffed he might shed early this year. I told him about
the fields of catnip that grow wild here. He was to get back
to me after a nap. Is he up yet?
