A shot of domestic bliss this AM. Luna the dog and Crichton the kitty hanging out together on the back deck.
Luna showed up scared, skinny and smelling of skunk at my old place in Eastern Washington back in 1999. Initially I thought she might belong to someone else and gone wandering, so I did not feed her or encourage her to stay. After a call of surrounding neighbors though it was obvious that someone had dumped or abandoned Luna. I ended up letting her stay, despite my initial reservations about adopting a stray dog of dubious origins. She is probably about 8 years old at this point, and doing quite well for her age, despite some back issues owing to her large size. Luna excels at finding smelly things to roll in, and hiding from the scary UPS driver!
This other curled-up hard case is Crichton, or “Commander John Crichton” as he was so loftily named going on 5 years ago now. (Back when I was a big Farscape fan. Poor cat.) Crichton was found as a kitten, all skin and bones and close to death on the edge of Swiss Valley Road by my mom as she was driving home one day. Mom dropped him off with me, and with some good food, vet care, and TLC, he perked right up... never looked back. Neither have I as he has become a lovely feline, albeit a bit wary of strangers, preferring to hide from anyone he doesn’t know. From a young age he’s been a primo slayer of the gophers at our stead as well as a wonderful companion outdoors. No matter what the task, he follows along and flops down, generally wherever he best interferes with whatever chore I am at. Crichton also has me trained to feed him on demand (fancy feast in only small fine porcelain serving dishes), let him in or out whenever requested to by meows or ankle swipes (despite a cat door he chooses to ignore), and to generally fret about him neurotically whenever I am not sure where he is. It's all good.