The cats and I are outsidel You'd think they'd be grateful, but they are
very unhappy.

I am bug-bombing the apartment, and they have to sit in a big cage, while
I sit in a comfy wheelie chair. For three hours. In the muggy heat.

See, I wanted a crate big enough for all the cats. I didn't check to see
if it would fit in my little Ford Escort so that we could idle in
air-conditioned comfort. Oh nonono!

So I am sitting on the shaded porch, while the babies almost huddle
together, nervous and worried. I hear an occasional hiss. Dulce Mae is
*standing* in the food. Little Feet is guarding the water. Bucky's first
reaction was bald-faced panic, although I've sweet-talked him into an
on-edge relaxation.

A couple of ferals (Blacky and Fluffy Tail) have come by to either say hi
or to gloat.

They seem to be okay for now, seeing that we aren't travelling, so I hope
their respective heart rates have gone back down.

I'm going to sit on the ground and sweet talk my babies for a while. Wish
us luck...

Hugs and Purrs,
Mark