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And last night at exactly 12:45am the growls started again (pretty much the moment I laid down). This time I went out with the broom and the long haired black boy with white whiskers was staring down Orange Boi.
Again. I chased him off the porch and then waited to see where he went. As I suspected, he went to the woodshed. Fine, I figured I would put some food in there to make him less inclined to fight on the porch for it. If I can get him to KEEP going there then I can nab him and can get the nuts nipped. So I come back in the house to get the food. Take some to Orange Boi for holding the front again, and head to the shed. Only this time as I am walking down the ramp off the porch, I slip and fall. Seriously, if I was going to fall wouldn't it make more sense that it happened as I was running around like a mad woman and waving a cheetah print broom at a big fluffy cat? No, I fall when casually walking. I landed on my left forearm. IT swelled up immediately and my hand is tingly still. I am sure it is not broken but holy crap it hurts to have my shirt touching it! (ETA, the BigMan thinks I did get a hairline fracture.) I also am starting to think Orange Boi is one of the four that used to be pets. He is way to social (and very, very easy to pick up and handle), to be fully a feral animal. They also now have a heated water dish, because spoiling cats is clearly a hobby around here.
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AuthorSavannah Caretaker who is honored to do the job. The Merry Rosette participates in the Amazon Associates program and a small commission is earned on qualifying purchases. This revenue goes towards helping to feed the Furrals!
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