We've added another furball to our 4-legged brood.
The new resident mouse catcher.
I named her after my husband's mowing tractor.
(That's Massey Ferguson for you city folk)
But only after he wouldn't go for my first choice ... Polka Dot .... Dottie for short.
Apparently that's a no-go since she has stripes and not dots.
Geez, so literal.
Even though she is supposed to live in the barn, I sneak her inside quite a bit.
She is extremely playful and loves my friend Heather.
So playful, as a matter of fact, that right now she is switching between helping me type and clawing holes in my hoodie.
But she's not a Woodrow fan.
This is her hair-standing-up, back-curling stance she takes every time she sees him.
It's followed by a series of hisses, howls and moans.
She is, however, a great snuggler.
And anytime you can't find her ... look over on the tractor manuals desk in the shop.
She likes to hangout somewhere between the stereo and the tractor logs.
She has adopted it as her new home.
It breaks my heart to leave her in the shop at night.
But she'll never catch any mice if I take her to the house.
I bought her a pink collar yesterday. It has a little bell on it so I can keep track of her while she's so little. And I made a tag too, in case she gets lost.
As you can tell, she's not a fan:
((Ignore my annoying "Ow, Ow" She likes to claw her way up my leg and it friggin' hurts))
When I got to the shop this morning to check on her ... I found her bell and tag up on the desk, and her collar on the floor.
I bought her a break-away collar in case she gets caught on all the equipment she climbs on in the shop.
The little squirt figured it out and broke it open on her own.
She's over it.