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October 28, 2005
The deciduous trees here are confused -- a drought that went on and on into the fall, then a drenching week of nothing but rain, no significant variation in temperature: When are we supposed to change color? they ask each other, and I see different individuals of the same species making different decisions about when to take the plunge.

Finally, the maple across the street has changed into the outfit I adore, palest orange with a kiss of red here and there. Her nearest relatives, though, have not, and neither has a distant cousin in our back yard, so she must be the family style-setter.

It got chillier last night than it has done so far, but there has been no frost yet. Noodle spent last night outside, and took her time coming in for breakfast. This is unlike her: she is always hungry, and the first to appear. I called and called into the darkness of the back garden, hoping to raise her without waking a neighbor, and I was just beginning to be concerned when she sauntered forth. It was cold and she was comfortable in whatever nest she found, I guess: Noodle just couldn't bring herself to get out of bed.

And where is my breakfast?

Just hold on, it's coming. Q had a store coupon for cat food that comes in pouches. You have to dig into the pouch with your fingers to get the last slimy bit of chopped meat into the bowl. I hope they don't have a sale on that kind again anytime soon.

Here you go, Noo. Noodle pounced on the dish.

We missed you last night, Noo. Where were you?

Out. It was difficult to understand Noodle with her mouth full of food.

Oh. What did you do?

Nothing. She was already licking the empty bowl. Noodle had eaten the contents of the pouch in less than a minute.

Is that all?

Well, each pouch is supposed to be a serving.

Noodle walked over to What-'s-Her-Name's placemat to see if there were any leftovers, but there was only a dish of clean water.

You could have some dry food. See? I stirred the dry food in the bowl so it would make some attractive noise. Look, Noo.

I don't eat rabbit food.

No, this is for cats. I show her the bag, which has a picture of a cat on the front. See?

That's not a cat. It's a rabbit in a cat suit. He's an actor.

No, it isn't. This is just as good as for you as the wet stuff.

Noodle cast a scornful glance in my direction. Then she looked calculating. "Scornful" and "calculating" look exactly the same on a cat. Now, I see you have three pouches left. If you give me another one now, you'll have two left for tomorrow's breakfast, one for me and one for What's-Her-Name. That'll be more fair.

More fair than what? I wasn't understanding the math.

More fair than forcing me to eat rabbit food.

I don't think so. I turned to go back upstairs to my office. Anyway, it's here if you want it.

She began to crunch on the dry food as soon as I was out of sight.


Check out HodgePodge today; Debbie gives us some memories and some links for Trick-or-Treating for UNICEF. And, over in More or Less Church, Deacon J unveils some liturgical ideas incorporating Native American traditions -- just in time for Thanksgiving planning, to balance things out a little.


On December 6th, Barbara Crafton will observe the 25th anniversary of her ordination. Watch the eMos for details of the Farm's online anniversary celebration of this milestone, which will be a benefit for Episcopal Relief and Development.
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