I came downstairs this morning to find Finnegan having great fun tossing around one of his toys in play. Upon closer inspection, I saw that it was a dead mouse — the forth in as many months. I felt a mixture of sadness and relief. Sadness at the loss of a life. Relief that Finn is cleaning up the place; something we haven’t been able to do with all our have-a-heart traps.

We live in an old farm house. It’s been a great old house, full of laughter and love–and small furry critters. I don’t know which we have more of; mice or bats. It’s been an ongoing battle just to keep them in check. I don’t mind the bats so […]

Okay, so I was only joking. Of course Finnegan is a cat and not a dog. In fact, I think he’s at least part, if not all, Maine Coon cat, which would explain his heavily tufted ears and his big, bushy tail. It would also explain his dog-like personality, and his superior hunting skills. Just ask the mice around here. If you can find any left.

We got a new dog about three months ago. He’s six months old now. Isn’t he gorgeous?

What? You think he looks like a cat?

Rub those eyes one more time, please, because I’m telling you Finnegan is a dog — through and through. So what that Mother Nature screwed up and put him in a cat’s body; he knows he was meant to be a dog, shoulda been a dog, is a dog in his own mind.

He follows Cait around wherever she goes. When she sits, he likes to lie at her feet. He plays a good game of fetch. When he plays rough-and-tumble with the dogs, he usually wins. He turns his nose up […]