Here was yesterday’s view from my window:
That’s right: a new roof. Don’t you just love expensive home maintenance projects that, once they’re done, you can barely tell that anything happened? Except that now we won’t have random contractors ringing our doorbell and presenting us with shingles that have flown off our roof with a suggestion to do something ASAP. I hope. And yes, that has actually happened to me. Twice.
Early this morning a roofer knocked on our door on official roof business, but he couldn’t resist asking if the nearby cat was ours. “Yes,” I answered, “That’s Isis–hey, what’s she got?”
“A squirrel,” answered the roofer, looking surprised and slightly appalled.
“Oh, wow! Good job, Isis!” I called, then explained, “We call her the Mighty Huntress. But she doesn’t usually get squirrels–they’re pretty big.”
Then, in succession, both M and J arrived at the back door, and both of them received the news of the squirrel take-down as a pleasant surprise. Each girl chirped encouragement and congratulations across the yard to our cat. I think that the roofing guy couldn’t believe our complete lack of regard for the squirrel, but it was clearly too late.
For over a year we managed to keep Isis indoors entirely, but she always made it challenging, and when J got big enough to open doors it became impossible. Early on, there was sometimes shrieking and carrying on when she brought us an injured or dead animal, but it clearly hurt her feelings, so now we try to take her offerings in the spirit that they’re given.
And frankly, I’m relieved when she brings them to us dead. Because getting a chipmunk safely out of the house is difficult.
(For a photo of Isis at rest, click here).