I talked to my brother last night about insisting that Bartleby come inside and stay there. She really does enjoy just spending the entire day lying in the grass up against the trunk of the living oak but there's been a verified sighting of a coyote on the other side of our peninsula and, although it's several miles away, those beasts can travel far when they want/need to. Also, where there's one there's more.
And Bartleby, with her bum hip, can't climb a tree or run away and she certainly would never think of fighting back even if it might do any good, which it wouldn't. She doesn't even try to protect her food from the birds when they land four feet away from her and start eating out of her dish.
My brother said she would prefer not to come inside. Well, of course not! She's Bartleby. But I know he secretly wishes she would come back in. I think he likes her better than any of the other cats. She does have the sweetest disposition, matched, possibly, only by Paribanour who just loves being groomed and petted and fussed over.
Bartleby will come in. Neither my brother nor I could stand it if she were hurt.
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