|"Hi, I'm Brin, and I've decided these peeps are O.K."|
|Trying to get a picture of him at his height is almost impossible,|
because as soon as I crouch down, he's heading over for pets.
|"I dig this table. Safe and close to the water hole."|
We've taken to calling them "The Strabies", a nonsensical word I made up as a contraction of "stray babies". I have no idea how this will ultimately play out. My husband (who also has a nickname - the Sta-Puff Marshmallow Man, because of the softness of his critter-loving heart) has a serious infatuation with Brin and mentioned that we might need to figure out some type of shelter for the winter. A section of yard that is double-fenced allows the Strabies pretty easy access while keeping them safe from dogs (including the Doodlebug) and might be a good spot for a cat house. Fortunately, Southern California winters are a long way from unbearable, and a long time from now. Today, the weather is fine, the Strabies know the yard is all theirs once the sun goes down (with the exception of Darby potty outings, but they've figured out the signs and know how to disappear when they hear his tags jingling), and we're in their corner.