[La lamy]

Originally Posted by ThirdOfFive

I've always had a passion for cats, and have fed both strays and ferals (hard to tell the difference from a distance, but you sure can if you get within maybe 20 feet of them).

Back in the day, living in the wilds of Northern Minnesota, a cat took up residence in the back of the woodshed. Definitely NOT a stray: if you got within 10' of it, it would fluff up and hiss. But I brought it some food (canned dog food, actually) and left it for him. Slowly, after weeks of this, he and I made friends. He was one tough old cat: scarred from many fights, missing one ear, and with his fur knotted up. He was never a pet; he came and went as he pleased, but he'd show up, hang out for a few days, then disappear for awhile. He actually let me cut out some of the fur knots and comb him out, after a fashion. Named him Wendell.

Wendell was tough, but unlike most cats he didn't seem all that bright. We hung laundry outside to dry back then; the lines strung between two structures of two poles stuck in the ground with a horizontal bar on the top. There was a squirrel that used to hang around; he'd shinny up one pole and sit on the top, chattering at Wendell. Wendell would go up the pole after him; the squirrel would then cross the log to the other pole, where he'd sit, still chattering. Wendell would try to cross the log, but he never made it more than halfway before falling off. I swear that squirrel was actually laughing.

Wendell was at least entertained I reckon!