We’re pretty sure that last night he fell in the pond. The back half was wet and muddy, the front half was just sad. It’s only a shallow little pond, but he wasn’t pleased. We got him mostly dry and gave him a wipe down and then brushed him, and finally let him be to go and lick his wounded pride.
Aren’t cats supposed to be sleek, elegant creatures? He once fell off a chair by lifting his leg to wash it. And when we took him for his jabs he escaped from the carrier and hid under the seat instead. One day I will write a children’s book about him and his brother, who is as sure as Tyb is clumsy and likes to climb… everything.