When Son named the half-grown cat that we "inherited", he said Bat stood for black cat. He also mentioned that it could be appropriate for bad cat. We laughed because up to that point, this was the most laid back, well behaved cat we had ever seen. Bad cat, indeed. Little did we know that once he received his name that assured him a place in this home, he would start being a rascal.
As usual, I let the cat roam free in the house while I went out to grind more of the hurricane debris into mulch. I work for about four hours then take a water break. Since I rest for maybe ten minutes before starting anew, I play with the cat to work out some of his energy. Well, that energy had already been spent before I took my break. Whoa! What a mess I found when I finally came inside. Goodness, Bat!
The Little Bayou House is filled with all sorts of oddities. Most are antiques that I acquired over the past 50 years or so. I have been told that I am the "Keeper of Weird and Wonderful Things" and that moniker fits nicely. Bat seems to think that my weird and wonderful things are his play toys. He attacked the hat boxes and hats from my great-grandfather's hat shop! I came inside to find feathers floating about the room, a stack of hats and boxes askew and a very frustrated looking cat. I do believe he was aggravated that I disturbed his playtime. Ugh! Bad Cat!! Bad cat, indeed! The saga has begun. I can see it now. Bad cat!
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