The Pony Has a Cat. Kinda.

The Pony sent me a picture of "his" cat on Saturday. The Pony didn't realize he had a cat. At first it was just an occasional visitor. But lately, it's been on his back porch when he gets home from work. 

"The cat was on my porch again."

That doesn't mean The Pony is adopting the cat. When I went by on Sunday, the cat was back on the porch, after The Pony and I returned from a grocery trip.

"See? I don't worry that he's hungry, because he is not skinny. I thought he had a collar, but now it looks like he doesn't. He runs away before I can pet him."

"Huh. I guess he just likes laying up there on your table."

As we watched, the cat trotted across the back yard, and stopped on the little concrete pad where the remains of The Pony's pecan tree logs had been lying for a couple years. Hick just hauled them to a buddy's house a couple weeks ago.

"Look! It's like he's thinking about where his big log went! I bet he used to sit on that, too."

"He usually walks up that way, and goes down the alley. I guess that's where he actually lives, at one of the houses down there."

It's like having a pet, but without the responsibility. Well. Except for the lack of "petting."