We wish we were as easy as cats to feed during a downpour:
But it’s letting up. Since we were packed in the stable all night, Rose’s door was knocked down:
Who did it, Rose?
“Don’t ask me. I wasn’t looking when it happened.”
I’m still on lockdown:
But I think I’m getting better.
I’m standing, and eating my hay.
Oh, and here’s a baby bird dislocated by the storm. We’ll keep him in the tool shed—hopefully out of the way of the cats. 😾