We really weren’t conscious of what we were getting into when we let that cute little stray cat inside our house on a cold winter night last January. The Mini is an absolute nutcase. He is the first cat that I allow to go outside: there was no way I could refuse him that right. He would have bugged me to death.
When I went out in the winter to shovel snow he was right there with me, hiding behind a pile of fresh snow, waiting to pounce on the shovel as it passed him. Blork and I made snow balls and threw them at The Mini and he tried to catch them as they would disintegrate in his face. Whenever I go out to do some work around the house, he shows up from god knows where and jumps on every leaf I rake or every pile of dirt I move around. I spend more time pushing him away than actually working.
He loves to freak people out. I was taking care of a couple of flowers the other day (I wouldn’t quite dare call it gardening) when I heard a woman scream behind me. I turned around and found The Mini in front of an old lady who was walking by. He was hiding under the low branches of a large pine tree and pounced on the lady when she passed by. As she slowly caught her breath, he rolled on the sidewalk in front of her, probably too cracked up to stand up on his four paws.
