a toad kitty in the garden

Music: Fritz Lang's M soundtrack (1931) Most of us in central Texas are suffering in this oppressive heat, with triple digit days now the tiresome norm. The drought is so severe that "extreme wildfire danger" signs are popping up everywhere; not one but two friend's homes have been threatened by wildfires in the last month.

One individual, however, is taking the triple-digit heat in stride: Psappho, my hairless (and last remaining) cat. She has always been an indoor cat and never allowed to go outside, but recently I've been making an exception. She meows her little head off to go outside, so I gave in about a month ago. Fortunately, she is well behaved: she just sits on the bench and wallows in the heat. I've even left her out there alone for over an hour, and she doesn't stray. She's just content to bench it and chill.

I decided to let her spend some time outside if she wants because she is getting old. Psappho is thirteen, pretty aged for her breed (a Sphynx), a breed whose recessive genetic cocktail make them more prone than other cats for various illnesses (especially related to the teeth). Having put down three cats in as many years, and given Psappho's age, I reasoned letting her enjoy herself in her old age is alright. She seems so happy outside on that bench, even if it's too hot for me to sit with her.

Oh, Psappho: your meows are incessantly deafening; you won't use the litter box and I tire of picking up your poop out of the bathtub; most people think you look like a rat; and you often smell bad. But . . . I still love you, and you're still here, and so at least the Texas heat is good for something: putty patio happiness.