We used to get an occasional surprise gift form our cat when we lived out in the mountains; once he brought in a rabbit - I locked him up and rescued the poor rabbit, another time, I was in the garage and heard Mrs. Hairy screaming, so I hied myself into the house to see what was up; there at the deck door sat Sam, with a three foot long green wiggling mustache. Mrs. Hairy had managed to get the door closed when she spotted him coming up the stairs from the garden with it. Sam was born feral, and even though we raised him on a dropper and bottle, and kept him, and another kitten about his same age indoors for a year, he had those wild genes; he owned that seven acres of mountainside - even the foxes and coyotes pretty much left him alone. But we were his "people, and when either one of us was sick, he would stay on the bed with us or nearby in whatever room we were in, and only go outside to do his business, then be right back in checking on us.
I went to my twentieth class reunion, and only stayed about an hour; knew most of the folks there, but most of them didn't remember me. I decided it was a bunch of strangers I had been acquainted with at one time. Never been to another; sixty is coming up in '19. In all fairness, I was only at that school for a year - went to three different high schools in three different towns, and even though I went back there when I got out of the Navy, and Mrs. Hairy and I did have a small social life there, I was pretty much a solitary person. Left there in '68, and only went back to see my folks, and to take care of business.
Fall has fell here in the Great Desert Southwest, and it is pretty nice - warm, breezy days, cool nights, and mostly clear and bluebirdy skies. It will change, suddenly, and I fear it might be a wet winter if El Nino flares up again.
Later.
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