We had our first Kingston sighting of the season this afternoon.
Much to Ben's dismay, I should probably add.
Actually, I've seen Kingston from a distance the last couple of weeks.
But today was his First Official Visit. He was poking around in our next-door-neighbors' flower bed when I skidded around the corner ready to do battle with the front yard.
He padded over immediately for a meet-and-greet, scratch on the head and roll on our warm (make that tepid) concrete driveway. After several thwarted attempts to climb into our car, he said, "Fine. What. EVER." and went back to his examination of the neighbors' ornamental grasses.
Ben had seen him from the backyard and came screaming up the neighbors' driveway to re-enforce his perceived territorial imperative. Or so Ben thought.
Kingston pirouetted. I expected to see him dash to feline safety. Instead, he charged Ben.
Poor Ben. He has a long, sad history with domineering (and, in some cases, crazy) cats. He beat a hasty, and somewhat undignified, to retreat to our front yard with a small gray cat in tow.
With that, The K-ster took a break and sunbathed.
Sorry, bud. I'm just the photographer.
Avoid. Eye. Contact.
Suitably warmed up, Kingston wanted to play.
He wanted to play "I'm a Cat. You're a Mouse." Ben did not like this game.
It was a long aftern00n for Ben.
Thank goodness for The Blue Blankie.