Loki can count to 3.

It took him nearly a week to forgive me for stuffing him into his crate and hauling him to the vet, so we started his medicines last weekend. He wouldn't let me catch him before that. I gave him a couple of days of nothing but snuggles before I started the meds. He only sees us in the evenings now in the front yard when we first get home and when he's dashing through the house after the neighbors eject him from their house at bedtime. Where he goes and what he does, I'm not sure but I can't catch him. He's Mr. Snuggles in the morning, so he's getting his antihistamine and a double dose of antibiotics with breakfast. That's three times of shoving/squirting meds into his mouth. He knows he gets fresh catnip afterwards. He waits for it. He's demanding three separate sprigs before he'll go back to his breakfast, one for each episode of medication.

We've been thinking he's not very smart due to his foolish behavior. Well, he can count to three. I know that now.

Last night when I got home, he was in the front yard poking at something on the lawn. The little girl came over and we discovered it was the shredded beginnings of a nest. The tiny bush tits are twittering in our purple plum tree all the time. He and the others have been staring up into the branches a lot. I think he managed to leap up and pull that nest out of the tree. It wasn't finished at all. There were no signs of eggs or baby birds, thank goodness... unless he ate them.

He's sure a determined hunter for a declawed cat. We scold him for chasing birds. He doesn't care. Maybe we should get A from next door to scold him. He loves her best. He might care what she thinks. As we were leaving to get our traditional El Pollo Loco take-out, she was pushing him away from the nest shards and talking to him. I didn't even tell her to do it!