(no subject)

Came back from late afternoon physio yesterday in whirling snow and shoes. I'd hoped the snow would hold off until evening, but no matter: rollators are usually used for balance and mine kept me steady. This morning the bobcats had been out because the sidewalk was clear, both sides, as far as I could see from my bedroom window. My front path was also clear, which is not the bobcats' department, so my Good Neighbour has been at work.

And when I looked out the study window at the back, where snow was still piled semi-deep on the roofs, there was my Good Neighbour apparently trying to coax a raccoon down from his cherry tree. Raccoons generally don't need coaxing: they go down walls head first like Stoker's Dracula. But when it shifted a bit I saw it was a luxuriously furred Persian cat that had got itself up but couldn't manage to get down. C. had some kind of treat in his hand to tempt it to within grabbling range, which he succeeded in doing. My guess is it's an indoor cat, possibly his, that escaped into the wonderful world outside, discovered the sparrows that perch in the tree's branches, went after them, and then regretted its decisions. There are very few outdoor cats in the 'hood these days and Fluffy is for sure not one of them.