Dear Supporters of Bacon,

I see Bacon as a mellow kind of guy. He’s never given me any trouble. So I was surprised to learn that he’d recently refused to eat his medicated wet food one day. Well, then I thought about it. We’ve all had our off days when we just weren’t that hungry. When we just felt a bit under the weather. I heard the next day Bacon was chomping down as usual. I suppose he was just feeling a bit off.

What was even more surprising was the next bit of news—that Bacon and Marcia were discovered out in the room, together, peacefully coexisting. It seems Marcia was the culprit here, breaking out of her domicile. I can almost imagine it. Sometimes you get a little stir crazy and just have to get out of the house. Usually, Bacon and Marcia take turns, being let free in the room. When Bacon is roaming around, Marcia stays inside. And vice versa.

Maybe someone let Bacon out, got distracted, and forgot to give Marcia her turn. In the beginning, Marcia is patient, but then, she says, “Hey Bacon, do you want some company?”

Bacon glances over. “Sure, but I think they forgot about us.”

Marcia is no dummy. She’s seen the way they lift up the latch. She’s also noticed that the latch isn’t quite all the way down. If she gives it a little nudge, she just might be able to break out. She uses her head and bangs against it. Like magic the part that opens swings up.

“How did you do that?”

 Marcia isn’t quite sure. She shrugs and prances out.

The two are face to face. Bacon smells pretty good. They touch noses.

“I’ve always wanted to see the inside of your house,” Marcia admits.

“Go ahead.”

Marcia likes what she sees. It’s calm. And darker, but serene in a nice kind of way. “You must have the upscale model,” she says.

Marcia jumps on the cat tree and Bacon jumps up there, too. After that, there’s nothing much else left to do but take a few turns around the room. This time Bacon takes the lead and Marcia follows. Then Marcia saunters around, and Bacon follows her.

After a minute or two, Marcia looks back. Bacon has plopped down in the middle of the room as if he’s intending to take a snooze. His eyes are closing . . . closing. After all, Bacon lives a very quiet life, and all this hanging around and socializing has tired him out. Come to think of it, Marcia is also feeling a bit exhausted, and she lays down beside him.

That’s when someone comes back. Yikes. You two are not supposed to be out together in the room!!

When I had the next opportunity to visit Bacon, I wondered if maybe Bacon and Marcia really could get along together on a more permanent basis.

But, I realized I didn’t know Marcia that well. She was out and about when I arrived, sitting on the cat tree.    I approached slowly and let her sniff me. I pet her a few times, feeling confident, then offered her a treat, which she readily accepted. So far, so good. I then had to use some additional treats and lure her into her cozy house so I could let Bacon out. She went willingly and then watched as I unzipped Bacon’s upscale abode.

Bacon shot out like a rocket.

He didn’t seem as interested in being with Marcia as spending time with me. He circled me several times, making sure to rub himself on my leg, my arm, and even my hand. Which surprised me. This was the first time Bacon has tried to make contact, and it was hard for me not to reach out and try to pet him.

I could almost hear Marcia whispering in my ear, “Oh, go ahead, what are you so nervous about?”

 Finally, it was time for me to begin my volunteer shift. I picked up a cat toy—a mouse dangling on a string—and swung it in front of Bacon. Well. For the next five minutes, he chased it and batted at it and jumped on it and had the most fun!!! It was easy to lure him back into his cozy house. Bacon followed the fake mouse into his house and then dive-bombed on top of it.

Maybe next month I’ll have the chance to pet Bacon!! But for now, I’m reveling in the progress I’ve made.

Bacon (Marcia) and I wish you a lovely rest of the summer. If you can, stay cool. As always, thank you for your continued generosity.

Your correspondent,
Kate