sniffing

You know, I love sniffing.

The kitchen is a great place to sniff. Sometimes I get something good, like a piece of carrot or a bit of cheese or hamburger. Then there is nasty stuff like onions or lettuce. It's good to be descended from carnivores.

I have a little game I play called "sniff out the toy". I can always amaze the humans with my skill. Their piddly snouts are useless for sniffing out anything but the most powerful scents. I'll hide my sparkle ball for a couple of weeks. They'll think it's lost and bring me another one. I'll go on my sniffing rounds and show up with the original sparkle ball in my mouth. You should see them, the can't believe their eyes. Right now I have a total of 3 sparkle balls, 2 of which are cleverly hidden.

Sniffing outside is just sublime. I can tell where the cat has been. I know if there have been any intruders in my yard. And as the snow melts, a new layer of scents is revealed every few days. I can tell how recently the deer have crossed the road. When I 'm out for a walk I can tell if Howie has been by. I can sniff out Rocco and the other two golden retrievers. I know if George has been past the house with his kids. I recognize the scent of the paper carrier and I know if the mail has come.

It's so great to be me and I do love my nose.

seasons

I wonder what the next season will be? I was born in April, so I know all about the first season. Spring was a time for being born. The season after that was the warm one. Summer was the season for hiking in the mountains. The next season was for falling leaves. In fall there was lots of work getting done. The season we have now is the season for snow. I am enjoying winter, but I wonder what will be next.

I'd like the new season to be for dogs. It would be for fetch, walks, belly rubs, chewing, treats and naps. Thats all. No staying home alone, no waiting until the work is done, no having patience while newspapers are read, and definitely no brushing or bathing. The season could be divine. Spring, summer, fall, winter, divine. And then maybe there could be some kind of very short season for cats. Just a couple of weeks for them to hiss, spit, scratch and leave fur all over my afghan. We could call that season crummy. Spring, summer, fall, winter, divine, crummy.

This cat lives at my house. He is not

Mr. Friendly. In fact he doesn't even have a name, he's just called The Cat.