I love critters. Especially furry ones that meow and let me love on them. Up until a couple of years ago, I had one of these furry critters in my life. But with the onset of graduate school, I decided that it would be a sounder financial decision to put off having another furry critter in my life until providing food and shelter wasn't such a touchy subject (read: post graduation once sound employment has been achieved).
However, what is a sound financial decision is a very poor emotional one. I miss my furry lap warmer (aka Mia) and my morning back massager (aka Patches). Life is just a little bit more empty for me these days.
Then I met Guy.
Guy is not my furry critter. I don't even know his real name, so I call him Guy. I'm pretty sure his permanent home is the next door neighbor, but he has claimed my backyard as his own. He sleeps in the shade and drinks from the pond, and chases off Gray Cat and Tortie Cat. For the first several months I lived here he'd run away at the very sight of me. He still runs from everyone else. Sometimes if I move wrong or if I'm carrying something, he runs from me too.
He's kind of a scaredy-Guy.
But most of the time, he waits for me to come out and love on him. He especially likes to have his head scratched, and will melt into the patio when I do this. If I go back inside before he's done getting attention, he lays on my outdoor mat until I come back out. (If I don't come back out, I won't see him for weeks as he pouts and holds a grudge).
He is my big hunky Guy who helps fill the whole in my life as I muddle my way through grad school.
Of course, there are furry critters that I'm not so fond of. Specifically, raccoons generally give me the wiggins. Except for the other night, when a raccoon meerly caused me about half an hour of curiosity and surprise.
One of the things that sealed my like of this *tiny* apartment was the skylight in the back half (where my bed is). The skylight helps it be lighter in here, even in the gloomy, wet, dreary winters. A few nights ago, as I lay reading in bed, I found out that I'm not the only one who is enamored with my skylight.
That is my skylight, and if you look closely (if you click on the picture it will enlarge, which may help) you can see a big, fat raccoon sitting on my skylight, taking a bath. It stayed there for about half an hour. Bathing. On my skylight. I haven't seen it since then, but every night when I hear something on my roof, I wonder if it's that dang raccoon.
In other news, the sweater is almost finished. That's my big project for today.