I think Sophie, my female moggie, is trying to lay an egg.  My guess is, she’s heard me talk about how much I like chooks and she fancies she might get even more attention if she pretends to be a chook. I don’t know what she actually knows about chooks, but I do know that Sophie Knows Things. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not expecting that she’ll succeed — at least I hope she doesn’t — that’s all I need is more cats!  Mind you, stranger things have happened, if the Fundamentalist Right is to be believed.

I’m attaching the evidence, just in case you think I’m making this up. Sophie has made a nest and spends most of her time on it.  She didn’t actually gather the material for the nest, but she did convert what was a loose collection of dried vines (which I had intended to make a basket out of) into a very suitable nest. I’ll let you know if any eggs appear. . .

Meanwhile, my battle to keep my other cat, a young male named Pigeon (as opposed to pigeons) off the roof continues. He manages to get round all of my efforts to keep him confined to the balcony outside my bedroom.  I really want the two of them to have an opportunity to spend time outside, but they can’t leave the balcony.  (I live in the bush; cats do not belong in the bush.  Nor do dogs, for that matter.)   Pigeon loves to get up onto the roof, then can’t/won’t get down. He has been taking lessons from the possums on how to scale the barrier I put up, which means I keep having to add bits to it. It’s turning into a Work of Art.   I know that I’ll have to get some more MDF and hot glue and power staples on the job again soon. 

Oops!  Gotta run,.  I have to deal with a Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.                MM

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