Because there is no way to effectively fence our property (also against our CC&Rs), Lance has created "water fences" on both sides of the back yard - simply hoses that spray water into the bay, beyond which the cats are reluctant to venture. (A good example of the old axiom about necessity being the mother of invention.) This system has worked well, especially after Jaspurr got his own sampling of another kind of water earlier this year.
Each year our feral ducks visit us to show of their new babies - tiny balls of yellow, brown, and cream fluff, that follow their mothers around in close formation, like cars in a miniature train. Obviously, the cats are fascinated by these tempting fluffballs, and Jaspurr in particular will lie for hours among the rushes on our banks, no doubt salivating in anticipation of a duckling treat for breakfast. Lance keeps an eye on him though, as do the mother ducks.
One morning, Jaspurr ventured out on the ramp that goes down to our boat dock, and lay there for 15 or 20 minutes, his topaz eyes huge as marbles, as he moved his head back and forth, following the ducks swimming and feeding just five feet below him. They would move tantalizing close, then as he crouched closer to the edge of the dock, they would casually swim away. Finally, one duck we've named "Top-Knot Harry," because of the plume of feathers he sports on the top of his head, moved almost directly under Jaspurr. The poor cat could contain himself no longer, and flung himself into the air, crashing on top of Harry, who careened out from under him, bouncing safely several feet away. Harry need not have been frightened though, because Jaspurr's attention was instantly diverted toward survival. He surfaced instantly (thanks to his built-in fat flotation device), and did a frantic catly butterfly breast stroke toward our rocky shore, which was about eight feet away. I had come outside just in time to hear the splash, and was terrified that the poor cat would drown, but he swam like the champ he is. Olympic swimmers have nothing on this cat! He proved his mettle on his virgin swim (although word has it that he's retired from water sports permanently). Today, he contents himself with lying the the grass, lusting after the ducks from afar.
Still, I suspect that on some very warm days he contemplates swimming with the otters. But that's another story...
- Franny Syufy
