Almost every night I venture into my yard to give Pistachio some treats. It has become a ritual of sorts. He jumps onto the kitchen window ledge, a signal that he is looking for his treats. He has become so domesticated (born feral, but now just a real love bug) that I regret not bringing him inside. I tell myself, Slugger (king of the house) would never have put up with an interloper. Now I wonder and assuage my guilt, by spoiling Pistachio with "milk and cookies".
Saturday, May 2, 2009
MILK AND COOKIES
Almost every night I venture into my yard to give Pistachio some treats. It has become a ritual of sorts. He jumps onto the kitchen window ledge, a signal that he is looking for his treats. He has become so domesticated (born feral, but now just a real love bug) that I regret not bringing him inside. I tell myself, Slugger (king of the house) would never have put up with an interloper. Now I wonder and assuage my guilt, by spoiling Pistachio with "milk and cookies".
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