Nap Time
The cat perch at Treasure Island (see photo) wasn’t created by design. Maybe that’s why the cat likes it so much. It’s shady, perfect for napping, and the thick rough cedar planks do double duty as a giant scratching pad—for his claws and his back. Perched above the deck his view is both scenic and strategic. Plus he can retreat to the far corner where I can’t reach him, so he goes there when he wants to stay outside awhile longer. I don’t mind because at least I know where he is.
K’s younger brother gave us the picnic table years ago, not long after we bought the vacation place at Treasure Island. It’s a massive thing, stable as an aircraft carrier, and seemingly about as heavy if you try to move it by yourself. Every couple of years when I would seal the deck boards, it was always a major undertaking to remove the table from the work area. Last time, with the help of a large strong friend, I flipped the table up onto a corner of the railing to get it out of the way. The contented hours that the cat spends atop the table are a strong vote for leaving it there permanently. As for us, now we use a different smaller picnic table that K’s dad made.
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