And I Worry

I know, I know I shouldn’t worry so goddamned much about Rocco, our porch warrior king but...BUT this seems to be my nature.

The Neurotic King, Rocco

He continues in his attempts to counteract/redact his oh-so very brief lovey dovey, smoovey performance by batting my hand away when I’ve the balls on temerity to get within a foot of him. Mind you, he comes up to me as though he’s going to rub up against my legs -- you know, in the time honored feline tradition of ‘you’re about to feed me so I’ll make this small show of appreciation as payment.’ Apart from that one day, he now stops short.

with apologies to Willie the Shake:

To trust, or not to trust, that is the question:
Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Patting
Or to take Paws against a Sea of affection,

Still, he’s not dashing away the  second I open the front door so that’s something. He even hangs around and lets me snap his pic now. Progress.

'True progress quietly and persistently moves along without notice.' 
-- St. Francis of Assisi

Poor Gus

 Rocco’s been terribly grumpy with his porchmates too though. Yesterday he took a swing at Poor Gus, who wisely remembered a prior engagement that he just had to dash off to.

Gaston, who has had enough of Rocco's moods

Gaston was back to walking on eggshells -- tiptoeing past Old Man Rocco to get to his brekkie -- until this morning. Dunno what the old man said but Gaston let loose with one of his Get-The-Fuck-Outta-My-Face howls. Rocco didn’t retaliate. Nope. Instead, he seemed to say ‘OK man, let’s not go all horror show here. Have some of my kibble. No, really. It’s on me.’

Then Poor Gus showed up. Possibly Gaston was fresh out of yowls or too busy being fierce with Rocco to get up in his grille. For once.

Rocco is Old Bull Lee, Crazy Horse and Kwai Chang Caine. He’s an honest, peaceable cat who’s had enough and isn’t gonna take it anymore.

And I worry. I just want him to be happy, warm and secure.