Sometimes, I Wish I Were THE Cat
I’ve written about my cat before, and I am again and probably will again. If you care to meet Moofie, go here (what does it say about a person when the personal photo is of his cat? that’s fodder for another time; and I don’t want you to explain it to me; who, me? dude, you got me all wrong, hehe).
Anyway, I was just sitting at the computer (dude, you ARE sitting at the computer; hush; now, where was I? oh, yes, at the computer) contemplating my navel and other weighty problems when it suddenly occurred to me that I really need to find that box of Q-Tips and clean some things out, my navel being one of those things (eeewwwww!! you sure you want to go there? hush; who’s blog is this anyway? I’m glad it’s yours and not mine; shush). Well to make a short story long, I last left her highness asleep on the back of the sofa, anxiously awaiting the coming of the warming light of the new day (geez, you over wrote that and badly; if you really want to overwrite it, try this—the small feline lies serenely atop the cushioned softness of the quilted pillows that oft do make her throne, while she awaits the new dawn to come at her bidding and warm her regal self; not bad; I’ll take it under consideration; “take it under consideration”? harrumph; see if I try to help again.). Now, where was I? Oh yes, I was engaged in a lively game of solitaire when her highness awoke and starting meowing, quite loudly, I might add. Well, her meaning was clear—“get your fat ass out of that chair and take me outside, NOW, you lousy #@*%$.” Nothing could be done except acquiesce to her command. So, we went outside, even though it’s damnably cold. Fortunately, for me, we didn’t stay long. Her highness also concluded it was damnably cold. As we came back inside, she looked up at me as if to say, “Shit, why’d you let it get so friggin’ cold? Can’t you do anything right? I don’t know why I even bother to keep you around. Sheesh!!!” And she proceeded to her food bowl which had just been replenished, also at her bidding.
All’s been quiet now for about 5 minutes, but we’ll repeat the process several more times ere twilight. It must be nice to be unabashedly and unapologetically egotistical and to know with all certainty that you ARE the center of all Creation and that all other inhabitants exist for the sole purpose of fulfilling your needs and desires. Yes, a finicky feline I choose to be on the flip side of this LP called Life (dude, you need to get a life, first; hush).
At least Her Highness doesn't keep you looking for the door into summer.
January 20, 2008 8:46 AM | Reply | Permalink
The dynamics of this clowder have gotten even more complex, with three new kittens, plus the 12 adult cats, and the 5 dogs and one squirrel who think, we think, that they are cats. So, there is enough complexity, and multiple humans, that diplomatic relations get quite involved. Certain indoor-outdoor cats (must remember who is indoor-only) will accept any person letting them out, but only some letting them in, with further cat-specific rules if they will come in the bathroom window or it must be the kitchen door, and, in one or two cases, they expect the doorman to come let them in, but only at the end of the day.
My Mr. Clark is clearly annoyed because he hasn't yet been able to visit the kittens, who are about 2.5 weeks old. He absolutely adores both 2- and 4-legged kittens. This is not to say that he doesn't get a martyred expression when he lies on his sides and let upset kittens nurse on him, just to have an appropriate warm body.
Rhonda is very extroverted toward people, and often spends her day with me, occasionally with long lectures and conversational attempt. If there is reincarnation, it's generally accepted she was an outlaw biker in a previous incarnation, at least toward four-legged family members. She is either the smallest or second-smallest cat, but can intimidate cats twice her size and dogs ten times her weight -- not actually attacking, but being absolutely determined. Hair Bear, who qualifies as the "male model" cat, most impressed with himself, is absolutely terrified of Rhonda, and he's about 16 pounds.
Mr. Clark, Rhonda, Sweetness, and C.S. Lewis often form a group, which seems to have the idea of a perfect behavior for a progressive dinner and social party. They will make a circuit of the house, systematically stopping at the various feeding stations. The same dry cat food is in each, but it must be sampled.
Dora, the matriarch for many of the cats, is dignified and friendly. Whenever anyone starts eating yogurt, however, she does her impression of a shark feeding frenzy. She will get her share, or take it with whatever means are necessary.
Meanwhile, Waffles, the squirrel and cat-in-trainign, is absolutely demanding of being cuddled every morning, then assisting Ric at the computer.
Zeus, the alpha dog, isn't doing well. The regular vet, with whom I am not terribly impressed, examined him and said the reason he was tired and losing weight was that he was anemic. When I called and got the actual lab values, however, he's probably anemic because he developed, which the vet didn't mention, severe kidney disease. I haven't found the veterinary reference book I want, but the BUN and creatinine would be serious in a human; I don't know where end stage renal disease starts for a dog.
Apropos of surprises in the political dance, I did upset the order of things last night. Bebe, probably the most affectionate of the dogs, was licking my face. She paused, and I licked her nose. She went into deep thought about that, probably on the order of George W. Bush trying to decide if he needs to go to the bathroom.
--
Howard
*equal opportunity offense to both extremes*
"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it" [George Santayana]
January 20, 2008 10:36 AM | Reply | Permalink