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This past summer, my parents were adopted by a kitten, Gus. (Her name is short for Augusta, which references the month she made her appearance – my mom is one for clever names.) Gus just showed up out of nowhere at the cabin one day when my parents were having a beer on the porch, all beat up like she'd been in scrape with some other animal (cat? dog? coyote?). She's all healed up now and has become the Cabin Cat.
Gus clearly knows how to earn her keep: in her first couple of weeks she killed one mouse and a chipmunk (eating all of the latter and leaving only the tail behind to demonstrate her prowess to ol' Art and Toni). She's as cute in person as in the photos – super sweet and affectionate (as long as you're not a rodent, that is), and with a little meow that sounds more like a squeak or a chirp than something a cat should say. She likes to be scratched on the belly and suffers attention in just about every form.
Anyway, my parents attempted to find Gus's original owner with no success, and so I expect that catching up with her will become an enjoyable part of our future visits to Idaho. (Don't worry, Jeans, you're still top cat here at Pacific Standard...but we all have to put up with a little ribbing from time to time, don't we?)
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Related – A few photos from the rest of the September trip to Idaho (it feels like a lifetime ago):
The weather was beautiful, as it often is there in the early fall.
Some deer came to enjoy the apples that had fallen from the tree
near the cabin. You can't really see it,
but one of them was starting to get antlers.
A few fall colors were starting to appear...
...mostly, though, everything was muted by that early fall haze.
There is something really peaceful to me about
the washed-out colors that time of year.
Looking toward the pond from the living room...
...and looking back.
The view out the back bedroom window toward the Old Forest.
The old farmhouse looks like a very small part of the new.
Some of the fall harvest: tomatoes, onions, and apples.
Headed west toward home.