If it hadn’t been for Martha Stewart, it would have slipped right past us.

I happened to see Martha on social media this morning posing with her felines. I knew I couldn’t let myself be outdone by Martha. What she had to offer in numbers (not to mention fluff), we completely make up for by the fact that we have the one and only Phoebe June.

Since today is a rare and glorious autumn day, we celebrated National Cat Day with a trip to the cemetery just down the street. This old cemetery, designed by an architect long ago, offers a great place to get away for a peaceful stroll.

Phoebe enjoyed the autumn splendor as much as I did.

The perfect afternoon held one spot of rare excitement for both of us. As we strolled down one of the long avenues between the towering cypress trees, we heard a loud pop and turned to see what caused the noise. There on the paved lane in front of us lay a squirrel, flat on his back, motionless. I surveyed my surroundings to make certain that someone with a BB gun hadn’t shot the squirrel and might perhaps take another shot and hit Phoebe June or me.  (Small town in the Midwest – that sort of thing happens here.)

We crept toward Mr. Squirrel with caution and with Phoebe’s tail bushed out and the fur along her spine doing its imitation of a razor-backed hog. As we approached, the squirrel stretched his back legs out as far has he could as though he’d forgotten his morning exercises. He gave them a few jerks as if to see if they’d been stretched to their absolute limits and relaxed again, ignoring the stick under his back. I knelt before him, trying to get my camera in place. It isn’t every day you get to hold your lens ten inches from a squirrel’s nose, which I now noticed was just a bit bloody.

Phoebe June sat two or three feet from the marvel, trying to decide if it was a gift from above or something that warranted caution. Like me, she’d never seen a squirrel with a concussion before.

After a slow roll, the squirrel sat up and studied us, weaving back and forth as though his eyes lacked focus and his head throbbed. I took aim, but before I could press the camera shutter, he staggered toward me, slipped under my left thigh and tottered off through the gravestones. Phoebe June flew after him like the mighty huntress she knows she is, but I reigned her in, reluctant to put the poor little fellow through any more trauma.  Also, they bite.

Having danced out onto the tip of a fragile branch of one of the tallest trees in the cemetery, it had snapped, the squirrel had plunged to the pavement below and had been knocked senseless.  After all that and wakening to find himself up close and personal with a human and a cat, this squirrel had had enough for one day.

I got no photo, but Phoebe had just about all the excitement she could stand for National Cat Day. That is, until somebody came walking through with their dog. Body language says it all. She disapproved.

Happy National Cat Day! Hug your kitty! Hand out a couple of extra treats. Have a cozy sit filled with chin scratches and neck massages.

Phoebe June recommends that you get into the spirit of National Cat Day and adopt a kitty if you don’t have one, because, as we all know, they are therapeutic. Food, litter, catnip toys and a few vet visits can run into money, but they are much cheaper than a psychiatrist!

Questions? Phoebe June is on hand to answer. Caution: She can be brutally honest. She’s excited to read your comments but her replies may reveal just a touch of high-mindedness.

You can review Phoebe June’s First Year by clicking here and be sure to check out my list of “Top Ten Things You’ll Reconsider Once You’ve Become a Kitten Mom”.