The Fugitive

Roosevelt staring at a bird--which
is what he does when he isn't sleeping.
 

Roosevelt, our adventurous Overlord, likes to to stare at the birds through the window, dreaming of the day Buckaroo agrees to allow him to frolic in the sunshine. That day will come when hungry coyotes, foxes, hawks, owls, or other potential varmints agree others have personal space. And yes, we have a back yard fence but I have yet to see that make a difference in keeping out any critters. 

Welcome to Texas.

Yesterday, while Marty and I were in the back yard picking tomatoes and an additional 587 pounds of (sigh) okra, Luna started barking her "critter bark."  Never a good sign, we rushed over, to find Luna, channeling an ancestral sheepdog, corralling an escaped Roosevelt. 

Our Yoga Cat, tuckered out after his shenanigans.
He really sleeps like that. 

We have no idea how Roosevelt managed to get past the storm door. He'd ventured past the edge of the patio and onto the grass before Luna caught up with him. To his credit, the cat appeared conciliatory. Instead of jumping the fence--because he could--and dashing off toward the woods, he acquiesced to Mama Luna's chastisement. 

Buckaroo immediately scooped up Roosevelt, scolding him for his escapades. I pointed out what Roosevelt heard was, "Hey! Blah blah blah, Roosevelt... blah blah." Buck swears Roosevelt got the message. Perhaps he did. But as I recall, when my son was roughly the same age, that wouldn't have stopped him from trying again.