Billy in our Arizona desert back yard. He was quite the hunter back then, slaying and dismembering mice and lizards, and giving the pack rat the boot from the Airstream.
With four days of steady rain, chilly temps, and Travis sick with can only be called the sleeping-coughing sickness, not much has been done to either boat. We did manage to order materials for the upcoming overhead project in the v-berth on Lucy Maru, and paint Mr. Perkins, Me Voy's engine.
Billy on a leash at the Grand Canyon during our exodus East. That is the one and only time he allowed us to walk him on a leash.
All this free time has lead me to wonder about cats, cats on boats in particular, and even more specific, our cat, Billy. Lately he has taken to doing laps around the top deck, galloping in circles from the back deck to the bow and back again, in the middle of the night, of course. What is he doing? I wonder as I wait for the dreaded splash.
Billy chillin on a roof top of our first B-more apartment
The splash must have been very quiet, for I slept right thru all of last night's secret goings-on. The only evidence something did happen was a thoroughly wet and embarassed Billy shivering in the salon. He wouldn't talk about it at all, and went to brood in the pilot house, leaving us baffled, wondering about his secret night life.
2 comments:
One look at that hole in the ground at the GC, and he thought he had better have a life line connected. OMG... how did he get back on the boat?
j, we have no clue. Must have climbed the dock pylons as there were no scratches on L.M.'s hull. I think I know what happened though. Billy liked to sit on the new rail on the back deck, which was unvarnished a couple of days ago. I since varnished it, and with the morning dew, this makes for a very, very slippery rail. He must have slipped off as he jumped onto it and went straight in. From there its still a mystery.
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