Don’t Touch That Mailbox!

cat looking out window above mailbox

My neighbor's calico cat makes sure her mail is delivered properly!

I often see my neighbor’s calico kitty looking out the windows of the enclosed front porch as I walk by on my way to Main Street. She’s truly a neighborhood guard cat! Finally the light was right on an overcast morning to catch her photo without glare on the glass, and it turns out to be one of the days when she’s guarding the mailbox, my favorite pose. I’d think twice before messing with her!

Of course, she probably has her buddy the serious brown dog, who I also often see in the porch, do her dirty work, as she seems like a true Queen Cat. I can just imagine her telling the dog, “Of with her head!” I’m on foot, I’d better get away while I can.


All images and text used on this site are copyrighted to Bernadette E. Kazmarski unless otherwise noted and may not be used in any way without my written permission. Please ask if you are interested in purchasing one as a print, or to use in a print or internet publication.

A Kitty to Come Home To

cat silhouette in window

Mimi Waits for Me

Every home needs a kitty who waits in the window for your return.

There is nothing more welcoming for me than a feline silhouette in one or more of my windows. Here, Mimi waits at the dining room window as I pull in front of the house with things to unload. Her greeting procedure once she has determined it’s me is to meow two quick “ee-eee” meows, stand up and stretch as tall as she can in the window, which is not terribly tall since she is tiny, and if the window is closed, slide her paws down the glass; if it’s open, she digs her claws into the screen—no, we don’t like this, but we live with it—stretch herself, then paw back down to the windowsill.

For half the 20 years I’ve been in this house I worked outside my home. The hours with that job were long and I rarely returned during daylight, but I had lamps on timers so that I wouldn’t come home to a dark house. I remember looking at my lit windows from as far down the street as I could see it, looking for my welcoming feline silhouettes—Sophie always at either the side window or my bedroom window upstairs in the front, Cookie in the front window downstairs, and Stanley and Kublai ranged around among the three downstairs windows. Even Sally, who was deaf, greeted me not just with a silhouette but with a meow I could hear outside even in winter when windows were closed. Any of the others of my feline family showed up at the windows as I walked up the side steps and came to the door, and all were at the door to greet me.

I can’t imagine it any other way.