On Woodward Day at Saratoga I fed Mister Mittens, her son Trouble and her daughter Shiloh shortly after 6 a.m. The girls had happy bellies and disappeared for a nap. The Tom? He didn't eat much, as usual, and spent the morning warbling and yelling and galloping all over the house like a crazy wild animal which is what he is.

Prior to the first race at Saratoga I wanted to lay out lunch for the house cats. After a good meal most cats go to sleep. About that time the tom Trouble raced up the stairs to the man cave with his favorite toy mouse in his jaws. At the top step he dropped his favorite toy and screamed out a cat shriek before killing the thing with fangs and claws for maybe the thousandth time.

I fed the cats and all three of them laid up for afternoon sleep. I played the ponies but:

All afternoon while going up and down the stairs for a pee and/or a beer I had to step over the tom's favorite mouse toy in the middle of the top step. Mid-card on my way for a beer I kicked it down to the hallway that'll get you to the bathroom, living room and kitchen. Two races later the mouse toy was back on the top step and I left it there. It's still there in the middle of the Met game going on 9 p.m.

I don't understand the human girl I live with for 43 years but maybe Wooley can help me out with the tomcat behavior.

Seems like that step is the place TRouble determines he is going to stash his mouse .but who knows...cats March
to their own beat