Well of course I don't mean literally. The one cat I have won't be herded.
No, it's these little girls,the grandpeeps, that I keep trying to herd. They don't cotton well to being herded, either.
For example, last night at football practice. C-dawg and Tay playing with another little sister of a boy on Julian.
Of course the little girls do not stay put for any length of time. They sit on the blanket a minute. They get up and go back on the sidewalk. They go over to talk to Papa. They come to me and want ... snacks.
Oh yes, I am the keeper of all things snacky. One little red golf bag cooler filled with water (sometimes juice), fish crackers, teddy grahams, gummy fruit snacks, and the piece de resistance ... the soft-cheese-and-stick-cracker kits.
I think those girls could LIVE on those things. They LOVE them.
Once we crack open the snack cooler, the evening enters cafeteria mode.
The first thing they want is the cheese and cracker kits. Do they eat the little stick crackers? Not so much. They dip. And lick. And they will even skip the crackers entirely and just lick the cheese out of its little well.
Oh, the calories! However, it's just want these skinny little peeps need.
When the cheese and cracker things are gone, they deign to eat the fishies, the gummies, and the grahams.
Then, they run some races, they are taken to see the cattails by their dad, and they get on and off our laps 1,000 times each.
They are incredible.
However, when practice is over, and it's time to go, it's like cleaning up after Woodstock: I imagine Yasger's farm was not much tidier than the area around our lawn chairs. Maybe more muddy.
A hug goodbye and a blown kiss, and they get herded into their car seats. To snack another day.
Well, how 'bout you? What cats have you been herdin'?