Being a cat isn’t always easy, particularly when that man plants the garden so that you can’t get to your favourite hidey hole.
Yes, I planted the garden so that Luna couldn’t get to her snug hiding place beneath the rhododendron. I didn’t mean to, I simply didn’t think, and Luna, being Luna, wasn’t going to walk on my plants to get there; so she was marooned poor thing. She looked quite distressed as she tried to find a pathway through the plants, but of course there wasn’t one.
I felt guilty. She really did like that spot. From there she could watch the bees and butterflies and, if she was really clever, catch one. Not nice I know, but cats will be cats and, unlike the birds, the butterflies and bees can’t hear her bell.
The more she wandered back and forth trying to find a way across, the guiltier I became. She shot me a look of reproach and meowed pitifully. It was no good, there was only one thing for it, I would have to build her a bridge, a walkway so that she could get to and from her lazy day sleeping area.
So that’s what I did using a piece of old limestone paving I had hanging around. Just the job for the nimble pawed.
Problem solved, amends made, and a happy cat.