Homesteader: October 28, 2012

As the weather has slipped toward winter, the soft side of my nature has begun to affect my judgment. (I know; who knew I had such a side?) Anyway, I've been trying to coax The Homesteader to "move" inside. Actually, I thought it would be a no brainer. Who wants to live in an old shed out in the weather? So I picked her up and brought her in the backfront door. Whoosh. Before I could turn to close the door, she was gone--back to the shed. I guess we know now who doesn't have the brain. My next strategy was to just hold the door open and let her initiate changing worlds. She stuck her nose in the door, surveyed the layout--ran back to the shed. Having a stubborn streak in my soft side, I tried another strategy: the food temptation. She came in, ate her fill, (I hope she's been washing her paws; she stands with her front paws in the middle of the bowl while she eats.) I petted her. That was acceptable. Purring even. I slowly closed the door. Ninja cat! She began jumping against the door trying to get out. Sigh. I opened the door and let her return to her domain: rain, wind, chill, an old wooden shed. I guess it's my head that's soft, not my heart. Wildness must be in her blood. What? Of course, I'll keep trying! Maybe a good snowstorm will change her mind? (By the way, I'm glad I don't speak cat'nese. She expressed her opinion several times, and I doubt if they were terms of love.)