Really, it's pointless. The grass grows again anyway and Maggie is a cat. Cats are the far-left liberals of the animal world. It's all about them and it's all about RIGHT NOW.
Oh, how that could segue into a whole 'nother topic of cats and dogs and red states and blue states.
Back to my little liberal.
Maggie likes to go outside. Not on the grass or the dirt. Just outside on the concrete patio (the covered concrete patio) where she can feel the wind in her fur but not the earth on her paws. It is a lot like those cheesy hiking tours where people like Paris Hilton can wear their new hiking boots and feel like they're roughing it while staying on the trail and eating a granola bar.
So, Maggie cries at the back door, peeking out the door's window, until we let her out. If the temperature is between 70 and 71 degrees, she stays outside. If not, she cries to come back in.
If the temperature drops too low, she doesn't even bother to stick her head out, but looks at me like,"Hello? Are you kidding me? The arctic temps are bad for my epidermis."
I'm not even sure cats have an epidermis.
Now that the temps have maintained within her comfort zone, Maggie wants to go out all the time. This is when she met her nemesis.
A frightening, furry, big-eyed bunny.
Makes me shudder to think of it.
I noticed the cute little creature a few months ago. He sneaks in the yard under an opening in the fence, hops across, then squeezes under another opening at the opposite end of the yard.
The two of them sat like this, in their animal stare contest. The bunny won. Maggie got bored, slowly walked over to the tile, and plopped into an instant nap. The bunny hopped away to his exit and high-fived his friends on the other side of our fence.
A lone crusader with new ideas, bold tactics and secret supporters behind the scenes. I'm thinking he may be a libertarian.