feline fanatic

Our cat, Chairman Meow (affectionately dubbed Shere Khan by Candyce) has a new favorite pastime . . .

. . .watching baseball on the big-screen!

Greg and the cat will sit riveted for hours, watching the stupid game. Chairman doesn't seem to care for the Food Network, Deadliest Catch (you'd think he'd find all that seafood somewhat interesting), the evening news or even football.

Just baseball . . . and Greg swears the cat's rooting for the Dodgers.

As strange as that is, I'm relieved that Chairman now has an indoor hobby that distracts him from stalking the neighbors' chickens.

Not that I think he's actually harmed the clucks--I haven't seen any tell-tale feathers on his face or had any irate phone calls from the neighbors. But it sounds like there's a fox in the hen house whenever Chairman goes over the fence . . .

As far as I can tell, however, the cat is definitely more brawn than brains and probably not a huge threat to the poultry. His favorite prey is actually the fearsome garden slug! Chairman loves the excitement of the, uh, chase during which the slug retracts all of its body parts into a slimy lump and plays dead. I've watched him bat happily at the slug's motionless form for a good ten minutes, stopping occasionally to lick the sticky goo off his paws.

I can't tell you how many mutlilated slugs I've squished between my toes when I take Scout out to do her nightly business . . .

The chickens might stand a fighting chance after all . . . at least until baseball season's over.