At the watering hole

It’s been quite warm outside, and we’ve been in the back yard a lot.

Mostly we watch bees and other flying things that aren’t nice to eat.

Or we sit on the bench. Like little old men, Rachel says.

She thought we’d like something else to do. So she brought us an old enamel bowl and filled it with water. Then she watched from the kitchen window.

Splish!

Splat!
Ladylike sips.

Thank you, Rachel. Jungle animals need a watering place.
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5 thoughts on “At the watering hole

  1. Rupert has something like this – an old, round, pig trough that we bought as a bird bath. The birds love it, as it is big enough to truly have a bath in, but Rupert loves to drink from it. I hate to say it, but the murkier the water, the more he seems to like it. In hot weather we top it up with the hose and he sniffs at it, thinking "This is tap water. I'm not drinking this processed stuff!"(They are going to have so much fun with a river at the bottom of the garden!)

  2. And speaking of water and a cat's love of it.Gus (Doug's taken to calling him Virgil lately but that's another story) comes happily out of his reclusive hiding to devilishly knock over any and all clear glass vases or jars that hold a just collected by me bouquet of cut flowers. No matter how big or small within an hour I'll hear the klunk, then the big splash, and then the dripping. Scamp ! Something about visible stems in water sends him.

  3. Just think what fun they will have with their own river!I have only just discovered that the cats have their own blog. Wonderful photos and a "feel good" blog that has really made me smile.Thank you Cats!

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