Cats (with No Names)

So once me and and Grandma "got our exercises", we retired to her backyard.  She gave me a tour.

And there was a lot going on.  Lot's of planters and decorations randomly scattered all about. I am sure there was plenty of method to the madness, but I couldn't figure it out.

But look closely at this picture.

I was highly interested in the clothesline. It's a little hard to see, but that's a REAL clothesline. It's set up with three lines of hard wire. That was awesome. I would love to have a clothesline.

And I really like this rug.

Little black girls praying. I've never seen a rug like that before.

That's on the carport, where my Uncle Tweet repairs lawn mowers and trimmers.

And the carport is where his cats eat.

There's no bowl or anything. He just grabbed a couple of handfuls of dry cat food from a garbage bag and scattered it on the ground.

How... uncivilized. But the cats were happy to have it, as you can see.

"So what are your cats' names?"

"Big Red," he said.

He reached down and petted a cat.

Uh, I suppose and assume the one he petted was Big Red."

"So," I continued when he didn't answer. "What's the other cats' names?"

"They don't have names."

*crickets*

Wow. So much went through my mind at that moment.

Cats with no names. There was a food-for-thought message in that.

And I think there still is.

I just haven't figured it out yet.

Then a BIG black cat showed up out of nowhere.

It made me jump back a step.

I guess he (or she) with no name was late to the party. But it got in there and ate with the rest.

We watched as the cats ate all the food off the ground.   I thought about snatching one up and taking it home to play with Callie, but they are feral, and would tare my house (and Callie) completely apart.

I let that thought go.

Then Grandma and I went back in the house.

We left Uncle Tweet, and the cats with no names, to themselves.