New Year’s Day in the Life of Not Cat

My plan, mid-morning, was to go for a short walk locally, taking my camera, to see if there was anything that caught my eye and which might suit the Winter challenge.

Not Cat hurried down the stairs with me. In the garden, he rushed about, and kept returning to me. I was looking at some leaves caught in a tree. Not Cat twisted his head round and looked too.

Looking at the Tree

Looking being far too passive an activity for Not Cat, he got into the tree.

In the Tree

The tree seemed to bear further investigation. Though it didn’t look very comfortable.

Further Investigation

He stayed there a while.

Interesting Features

Then he climbed down.

Descent

Next up for inspection was the bikeshed.

Possibilities

Standing on the bikes and bars gives him a view of the wall and vine where the birds are still eating the last of the grapes. He moved to get a better view.

Making a Bridge

He’s very fond of the owner of this underused and cobwebby bike. I say this with a degree of smugness having washed my bike last week. I wondered if he could smell her, but it’s more likely that a fox has clambered about on it. I once saw a fox cub gnawing the solid pedals on this bike.

Who's Been Sitting on This Saddle?

Next stop was my car and an easy leap onto the neighbour’s wall. He disappeared into the foliage.

Camouflaged

Then reemerged in another tree.

Viewpoint

I wish I knew the term, if there is one, for the sailor who had to climb up to the crow’s nest, because that would have been a suitable name for Not Cat. Up he climbed.

Not Cat Aloft

He seemed pretty settled. I took several pictures. Annoyingly, I managed to get the branches rather than Not Cat in focus for most of them.

Viewing the Terrain

He looked happy, and not that bothered about where I was, so I decided it was time to start my walk.
I left the garden. About fifty yards from home, and no pictures taken, I heard a loud and distressed yowl. I stopped. I listened. Could it be? I hurried back. Not Cat sat in the driveway, his mouth open, his lungs empty of air. The latest yowl echoed on the winter air. He stood up and raised his tail to welcome me back.

Power. Not mine.

A neighbour returned from overnight revels in her jeep. I waved to show Not Cat was about. She approached cautiously. Once out of the jeep, she was greeted by Not Cat who ran towards her like a homing pigeon. Or should that be flew?

When did you two become friends? I asked.
Just now, she answered. Not Cat adhered to her legs.

It was clear I could not leave the garden without Not Cat coming with me. Not unless Neighbour-and-New-Friend stayed with him. Why doesn’t this apply when he disappears and makes me late for work? He has previously tried to accompany me to the main road. I stayed in the garden. Not Cat asserted his dominance over a visiting Mercedes.

King of the Cars

And hid in another tree.

Hiding

Which is how I came to post the winter rose pix instead of anything more exciting. Am I the first person to claim my pet has cramped my creative style?

When I did decide to go indoors, he raced across the garden just as Cat used to do. I used to call Cat Trigger when he did this. I need another horse name for Not Cat. Red Rum maybe. But I really don’t want him opening supermarkets.

Is there a racehorse called Ginger Ninja?