Another interesting feature of moving to the 'burbs has been meeting all the local pets. Soon after we moved last year this magnificent critter began visiting us:
We call him (or her) by various grandiose names as he (or she) has so much (c)attitude! Formal titles are usually involved, e.g. His Royal Fluffiness, Captain Fluffypants, and Brigadier-General Fluffybum. You get the picture.
The next visiting cat is a bit more shy, though still has distinct opinions. She tends to show up on our back deck, press her nose against the sliding door, and plaintively ask to be let inside.
Our house used to be a rental property so we're wondering whether, perhaps, she used to live there and wants to visit for old times' sake. We call her Slinky. Because she slinks.
Kitty-cat number three only recently appeared, and likes to pop by and drink from our bird bath.
We've dubbed her Ginger Lips as she has ginger fur on her lower lip.
Occasionally they have a squealing punch-up in the middle of the night, but mostly they just patrol.
As Dr Amy Farrah Fowler said so eloquently, 'I love cats. They're the epitome of indifference.'