While my actual kitties are somewhat accustomed to our summer weekend absences, the wildlife is not so attuned. When I got home after today's 10 hour rehearsal, one of the younger tree kitties* came racing up to the back door and pressed her paws to the glass, ready for treats. I cracked the door, holding out a piece of granola bar.

Tree Kitty approached. Hesitated. Approached. Backed away.

Peed. Looked at me, clearly pained by her social faux pas. Peed some more. Retired to the paving stones, sat down, uncertain as to how to proceed.

I set the granola bar on the back step and closed the door. She bounded over, scooped up the treat, and - very carefully avoiding the trail of pee - made for the woods.


Mildly amusing anecdote aside, it occurs to me: flailing. Social anxiety. Inappropriate pee. Desire for treats overcoming all of these things. Yup; pretty sure I am a tree kitty.






*on the slight chance you don't already know, tree kitty = squirrel