Update on the cats

Since I know you all have been breathlessly awaiting the latest news of the cat scene in La Marsa, I thought I’d indulge you.

My first thought on this one is that it’s the Sideshow Bob of the Cat world.

My second thought was remembering the best beagle ever – no, not Snoopy. Our childhood dog when we lived in St. Louis was The Beagle, forever the archetypal “dog” in my brain. Sugar Culver. In a box in my sister’s closet, we have pictures of Sugar lying curled up in our backyard pampas grass. Those bushes were positively razor-like, but she had carved a nest for herself, and then Mom and Dad trimmed it back so she could access her Safe Place. Cute little fart that she was.

It’s a very good thing I don’t have our picture box handy – that’s not a rabbit hole I need to go down these days. I’m already mired in nostalgia. The simplest reminders of The Past set me off. I have been watching the Long Strange Trip documentary about the Grateful Dead – tears. When I find myself doing things Mom did a thousand times, like clean off the spatula on the beaters – tears. A dear friend from high school (!) wrote me a nice hello and referenced Bloom County dandelion breaks – you get the idea.

(For Bloom County fans, go to this link for a random strip generator. That’ll eat up an afternoon!)

Of course the Current Situation could cause anyone to go looking weepily for past innocence.

Wait, wasn’t I talking about cats?

Oh yeah. So I thought maybe all the cats had been rounded up and taken out of the city, but it turns out they’re all still here, waiting in the shady corners till that blasted heat abated. Now when we’re out walking, their little fur faces are gazing back at us from every corner again (or ignoring us completely, of course.)

Looks dangerous, but it’s just the parking lot by the fish market. These two probably just had a feast. If the car starts up, they’ll be miles away before the driver even shifts into reverse.
I so want to know what that graffiti in Arabic says. Like, “Free calico to good home,” or “Watch for spilled paint.”
Trying that old camouflage trick.
After the rush at the restaurant – a catnap.
I feel like I’m intruding.
Stealth cat, seen through night vision goggles. Just kidding, it’s a streetlight.

Not a cat

Yeah, I know that’s no cat – it’s Gerardo, our house lizard. He’s quite small and cute and only rarely makes it into the silverware drawer. I’m heartened by the idea of him eating other bugs – which he must, in abundance.


Back to cats

Just a glamour shot here of my Raya and Tony’s Sox – they are big hams. Tony keeps them chubby, happy and entertained in NE DC.

My local cat here in Tunis is called Mogui. She has lived in front of my house since she was born, to the lovely Lucia Vinny, who is also a rascal for having left her kids here to go chasing Toms. Here is Mogui, having recently emerged after being hidden the last couple of months with her own litter of babies!

Still skinny, but I’ll put some weight on her before winter hits. Hey, it’s no Fat Bear Week (have you chosen your chubby ursines yet?), but it’s right here at our doorstep. Anything for entertainment these days.

Also not a cat

My brother has set up a wildlife camera on his remote Alaska property and captured this shot of a family of wolves, near the cabin he has so far built without doors:

And I thought feeding Mogui was wild!

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