Daily I walk to the mailbox unless it is Sunday, hopelessly icy, raining torrents, cold enough to freeze the breath as it exits... (No relation to the mailmen of yore.) The hill is steep -- so steep the gravel has washed, leaving in the northernmost tire track a 2-3" deep wavy line that meanders onto the edge, then back into the center just to insure no tire traversing the trail of the driveway could possibly miss it.
Tuesday my two jealous male house cats (who are indoor/outdoor critters now) accompanied me. One tried to lead the way, clearly unsure with all the space before us where his mysterious human intended to go. The other laid his ears flat along the side of his head and, hugging the un-graveled edges, slunk along many yards back, clearly afraid to desert the field in the heat of battle for possession of his human.
"Jabberwock, move!" I commanded the third time his antics nearly floored me. When I spoke, Spelunker Thunderpaws dashed forward, rubbing against my leg. Although Jabberwock had accompanied me once before, jabbering his distress the whole time, this was Spelunker's first time. His forte is crawling into dark, tight places for a several hours' long nap. The open spaces make him highly uneasy.
Today, Jabby and Spelunker exited the house with me, one leading, one trailing in Wagon-Train-Crossing-Hostile-Indian-Coun
None came past the bridge and steps down to the old house's porch, but all four came back to the house with me.
Time to replenish the cat food in the pans on the back porch, I bet.