Bob is the youngest of the critters in my life. Lucy is about eight years old and has anxiety issues and OCD. She traces everything with her eyes. Poor thing doesn't hold still long enough to get lovin's. She moves constantly like something is after her. I have Pheromone Spray and plug ins but nothing much works. She sleeps with me. That is when she feels safe.
Grace is, we think, around eight or nine. She is jealous and believes she should be number one at all times. Grace has never learned to play. Once in a while I can get her to chase her treat and bring it back to me. Mostly she just humps Lucy for entertainment. I am serious. Lucy lets her which is even stranger. Funny Farm lives on.....
Back to Bob.
So I brought my tall aluminum ladder up from the storage bin for some unreachable work. I leaned it against the wall. Suddenly I heard clanging. There he was, Bob was climbing the closed ladder. Up and down, might I add straight up and down! I was danged impressed. At least one out of three has some spunk. Like me.
P.S. He wasn't fifteen pounds back then!! Bet he couldn't pull that off now!
More "Cat Tales" later.