What a character. This is our orphan cat who meows for cuddles and breakfast every morning. He is pulling my heart strings out and tuning them up. He was doing his chin-ups on the tree outside our kitchen window yesterday.
He turns in circles and nestles into his sheepskin rug in a banana box on the back door step. Blinks loving eyes at us, and purrs.
Kittens are designed to playfight with their litter of siblings, and chase after mice and birds… and it really catches at my throat that those playful claws that keep us laughing as we zip a stick back and forth, may be the culprit for the ragged torture of our butterfly friend.
How can the same furry companion be such a torment to a small soul right behind the next wall? And seemingly oblivious to the harm and distress caused.
It is a puzzle.