One cool cat

It's hard to believe, but even at 110 degrees, our cat seems to want to spend at least part of his life outside, either spread out on the back or front patio, depending on the time of day.  Then, when he's had enough of the heat, and perhaps also, the bird life scene has reached its point of boredom, he's ready to come in, plop his body on the cool cement floor and "chill."  He also does spend the night with us, on the bed beneath the ceiling fan and air conditioning duct.

This week, while Mark was away at a conference and Gray was my sole home companion, I slipped him a first name for the first time and it's stuck:  he is now "Charlie Gray."  It just popped out one morning as he came in and he looked up at me as if to say, "Well, finally, I have a full name.  It's about time."  Then, too, it's only been lately that he's permitted us to reach out and touch him at times other than when we feed him.  So, after life on the streets for who knows how long, and then life outside with us (or inside in the garage while Lia was still alive), and after three months of inside as well as outside living, we are a threesome.  Maybe, as Mark suggests, the Charlie-part comes from his charcoal gray color, or maybe he is just a Charlie-kind-of-guy.

So here is Charlie Gray--one cool cat.

P.S. Hey, maybe he's named for the jazz trumpeter, Charlie Parker--I read a book about him once and so there might be a subconscious connection lurking in my psyche.