Cat Detectives

The snow is melting but not fast enough. You still can’t walk up north here we come on weekends. The only melt is around people’s docks where the aqautherm heaters they put in to keep a pool of open water so the docks don’t break up in all the ice.Otherwise: tundra.The cats can’t believe it. They go out on the porch and get no farther. There is no vegetation to sniff, no rich earth to dig in after using it for the purpose the Cat Gods intended.So they come back inside with me and together we climb to the room over the garage, the house’s highest point. In one direction: a gritty driveway. In the other: more tundra.There is however a little balcony off this room too small for more than a single chair in summer.  Both cats are out on it now, noses pointed southward. They lift their chins. They sniff the air. They smell something I am missing. Oh for a nose like a cat and a cat’s eyes too when March has us all stuck in neutral!