With the fine summer we've had, it might be time to revisit this four seasons thing.
The hot months have been more like spring, so here's an idea. We go ahead and have four seasons, all right. They being fall, winter, spring and football season.
Boat Dock is feline outdoors columnist for NWA Media. His column appears when he feels like writing one. Write to Boat Dock on his Facebook page.
The leaves change in autumn, and things are a little different around the hovel once the pig skin starts bouncing around. For once, I, Boat Dock, rule the roost.
Oh, the cat butler can keep his silly remote. He can watch the Razorbacks all he wants on Saturday. My manservant can veg out with the pros every Sunday and Monday, even on Thursday.
You see, for us cats, that food dish on the floor is as big a part of our lives as that satellite dish or cable is for you two-leggeds. It's a sad day in any cat household when the dish isn't filled with a sufficient supply of feline nourishment. Every cat's a pessimist when the dish is half empty.
It's fourth down and starvation most of the year when my cabin boy get stingy with the food sack. You'd think he has to grind grain with a rock to feed me since he only fills my dish 10 or 12 times a day. Rule No. 1 of cat ownership is never let the bottom of the food dish show. When it does, I throw a penalty flag.
I'm not asking for much here. I don't even do canned. So when the bottom of my dish shows I am the 12th man, the 12th cat, yowling like a crazed fan with 1 second to go and the game is tied.
It's different on game day. At some point during the pregame, he makes a first down by by walking to the kitchen and filling my dish to the brim. That's fine by me, but it's really his feeble attempt to keep me quiet during the game, so he can go for hours without seeing to my needs.
Right. Refs will wear polka dots instead of stripes before that happens. Coaches will holler, "shucky-darns" when their team fumbles.
For an entire four quarters, the furless one thinks he can be excused from his butler duties. How humorous. He figures he'll spend a nice three hours with his hiney glued to his rocker and his eyes to the tube. Let's look into this crystal football. I, Boat Dock, see my door man letting me in or out every time the center snaps the ball.
Talk about fantasy football. It's all in the air between his ears if he thinks he can go until the 2 minute warning without granting my wishes.
It's obvious we cats are the superior species of the planet. We know when it's football season even without a calendar. When the game is on, all the commercials are about cars. Instead of spending their money wisely on cat treats, our wait staffs squander it in the office football pool.
The most telltale sign of all? When the food dish overfloweth, we know kickoff is near.
Outdoors on 09/18/2014