Ever since I saw those two scuzzy-looking guys hop the fence into our building’s courtyard at 06 00 one morning, I no longer feel safe outside first thing. Cai is fine with that, but since Fergus is only five months old, he still gets “balcony privileges” when he gets up. Occasionally we sleep too soundly, and his crate blanket is soggy by the time we come downstairs, but it’s pretty easy to tell when we’ve arrived in time. This morning I noticed something.
There’s something strange about this morning’s puddle, over there by the self-seeded petunias and Indian Paintbrush.
Let me have a closer look…
Awww! It reads, “Thanks, mommy, for letting me out of my crate early enough. I love you! – Fergus.”