the continuing saga of my cat’s hopeless love for our mailman
It finally warmed up a bit today, and with the sun shining in, we decided to play on the front porch for the first time in months. I think the last time we played on the porch may have been Zoe’s first birthday.
(I guess there’s nothing in this shot that makes it obvious we’re on our porch, except maybe that Z is wearing a hat).
While we were there, I got to witness first hand, the shameless flirting that our cat Doza engages in with our mailman. Some background: Doza is 5 years old, friendly, and particularly fond of men. She’s a good hunter, and doesn’t appear to be afraid of anything at all, but in the years that we’ve had her, she has never tried to run outside.
(Doza snuggling with her favorite man)
Ok, so this morning, while the Z-girl and I are enjoying the fresh air and the view of cars driving along our street, Doza is on the porch with us, and is pawing at the door like she wants to go inside, when she notices the mailman is at our neighbor’s house. She chirps cheerfully a couple times, jumps to the window by our front door and watches him intently as he starts up our sidewalk. (While I was on maternity leave, she would consistently ask to go out on the porch a minute or two before he came with the mail. I don’t know if he’s just really that punctual, or if she was always watching).
So Mr. Mailman (the object of Ms. Doza-cat’s affection) arrives with a Net.flix dvd for us, and when I opened the door to get it, she calmly walks out the the door – which, as I mentioned, she’d never done before – as if she was just going to accompany him on the rest of his rounds. He smiles at her, calls her sweetheart, tells her that she can’t escape, and then pats her paw as I pick her up. I doubt that did much to quell her mailman-crush. In fact, I bet she never cleans her paw again.