Trick the Cat seldom wants physical attention.
A few strokes, every few days, suit him fine.
But he does demand to be the center of attention.
When I'm gardening, he's rolling around in the dirt.
During the days, he naps among the chickens.
He likes nothing more than to rub against the lambs and then entice them to follow him through the sheep paddock.
When I lunge the horses, he likes to lounge in the sand -- just feet from the horses' hooves.
When working dogs on the sheep, he sometimes lies in wait of the dogs. When they go by, he pounces them. Sometimes, though, he chooses the sheep for amusement. He likes to lie in their path and dare them to come close. They always veer to avoid him.
So, last evening, when Trick wasn't in his usual spots, I noticed. I've become accustomed to the Trickster.
For a few hours, he let me ponder about how he makes everyday chores a little more fun.
And because he's about fun, he returned to the back porch at dusk, safe and unharmed, and ready to play.