Yup. You guessed it. The FORBIDDEN ZONE.

So she goes creeping, creeping, creeping across the back of the side yard towards Gwen's house. In full hunt mode: tail down, ears back, each step measured and precise. Closer and closer to the forbidden zone. The forbidden zone, that swath of decorative plants gone jungle from years of being left alone to just do as they pleased. And they pleased to grow, thick and unruly, into a haven for critters and an irresistable hidey-hole for cats. And Yuki, being all cat and hunter, is called all the stronger.

Pepe, is a satisfied mixture of a kitten's curiosity and a middle aged cat's protruding belly. A belly that resembles a cows udders in both it's shape and positioning and in the way it sways to and fro, to and fro as he walks. He is the male, and as in male cats of all sizes in the wild, he is content to let Yuki do all the work of skulking and hunting while he waits, napping in the sun for her to corner, capture and tire out something. At which time he moseys on over as if to say, "I'll take it from here."

I am moving, from my place watering the flowers in the front yard, at an angle meant to intercept Yuki just before se breaches the forbidden zone. She cannot understand why I will not let her venture into it's inviting shadows, but she knows I am adamant about it. You can tell that by the way she surreptiously tries to keep an eye out for me as she eases off that direction. But if I am nothing else, I am a vigilant man.

Yuki decides that this time she is not to be denied. Once she is sure I am on to her she picks up the pace, first hurrying and then abandoning all pretense and breaking into a sprint. I am in pursuit, vainly admonishing her, "No! Yuki, no! Stay out of there!" But it is to no avail.

What I already know, she is about to discover. Tank, the giant dog next door who is part chow and part something with a pituary gland problem, somehow hears her running towards him and in his deep, no nonsense way begins his slow and dangerous sounding warning. "Rrrrwooof... Rrrrwooof... Rrrrwooof... ," he warns. Yuki stops dead in her tracks. So quickly, in fact, that her rear end momentarily smacks up into her front end, like some kind of four legged accordian.

Coming to quite the swift decision as to what to do next, she turns and high tails it across tha back yard and into the dark, safe, cave like haven that is the garage. In the garage and underneath the Pontiac, to be precise. I follow her, laughing. "See, I told you. You don't need to be over there."

I realize that Pepe is not with us. Thinking he may be paralyzed with fear, I go back to "rescue" him from the big, mean, fenced in dog. They can see neither the dog nor the fence, which is fine by me. It's better if they wonder.

When I get there I find Pepe, still in his little patch of sun, but now sitting in a more attentive position, facing the barking, with his head cocked in the way cats do when their curiosity is piqued. And, knowing my boy cat the way that I do, I know he is thinking, "Do I go try to play with it or go try to eat it?"

There you go. A morning in my yard.

Easy now, out
Ramblin' Ed