Where the Sidewalk Ends

Otto was lucky enough to get a big, big treat today.  He got to go outside, on the back patio, for a nice long time.  Mind you, he is only allowed to do this with supervision--both Sean and me this time.  And he understands that there are ground rules.

We were on the back, screened-in porch, enjoying a cold beverage to beat the late Summer heat, when Sean said, "Otto, want to go out on the back deck?  Back deck?"  Otto's head whipped around, and he started trotting towards the back door.  Sean let him out, and Otto headed down the stairs of the back deck toward the patio.  I followed them out there, just to see what was up.  Otto, yowling happily, walked all along the edges of the patio, sniffing everything, chasing flies, and stopping just at the edge of the patio, where the surface changes to mulch.  Otto knows that he's not allowed on any surface but "concrete," or in this case, patio stones.  

Sean taught him that trick a few houses ago, where we didn't have a screened-in front porch.  Otto would stand on the edge of the porch slab, and look over his shoulder at us, while gingerly putting one foot down towards the grass.  "Otto!" one of us would say sharply, and the foot would come immediately back up to the slab.  Otto learned quickly.  So well, in fact, that he discovered that the little slabs heading from the driveway to the front porch were also made of concrete, so he would go hopping from slab to slab, making it all the way to the gravel driveway before one of us retrieved him.  But he got it.  

So this afternoon, Otto did his usual flopping and rolling on the warm stones.  But when he'd had enough of that, up he hopped into Sean's lap for a late-afternoon snooze.  He snuggled up in Sean's lap like a baby, with his body curled up towards Sean and his paws on Sean's torso.  Otto laid there happily, with the afternoon sun dappling his tawny fur and the happiest smile on his face.  (Yes, cats really do smile.  Anybody who says differently just isn't paying attention.)  His purr was audible and visible--the skin on his throat was vibrating in rhythm with his purrs.  All was right in Otto's world.

Things weren't too shabby in our world, either.