SOMETIMES A KITTY JUST CAN'T CATCH A BREAK!
Monday the cats were most unhappy that I got up early and went to work. But that’s their normal state of angst.
However, on Tuesday they were sequestered in the spare room with the door closed because the cleaning crew was due to come and run the dreaded vacuum cleaner. Never mind that a big cushion is placed in there for them. Forget the fact that their food dishes, water dishes and grit box are all conveniently arrayed around the room, each of these disparate functions located in separate portions of a fairly good sized room. Sam dislikes being tucked away on cleaning day because it is HIS JOB to attack and, possibly, destroy the vacuum cleaner as well as anyone wielding it. Also, there were unknown persons in HIS house and that never sits well with my bodyguard cat! Tim, on the other hand, was unhappy because there were potential new admirers in the house and he was unable to make their acquaintance. Tim is firmly convinced that anyone who comes to our house is there specifically to see him! He could be right!
Yesterday, however, was the worst day of the week – at least for young Tim. For those who haven’t been introduced to this rather fey creature, Tim is a Bluepoint Siamese, just 27 months of age. He is possessed of more than his normal share of feline curiosity and a level of giddy energy that is astounding. Particularly to his big “brother” Sam who, at nearly 6 years of age, is more phlegmatic and, he thinks, dignified. As a result of his unfettered nosiness, Tim considers it his prerogative to investigate any and all parcels coming into or leaving the house (including the trash) and any and all cupboards and closets that are in the house. This is why I do a “cat count” every morning before leaving for work.
Yesterday morning, however, I had my mind firmly focused on a couple of errands I needed to do en route to the office (and I only live 3-1/2 miles from work, so I usually have ample time), so I neglected my normal precautions.
I'm sure you've already guessed that when I returned from work last night I saw Sam splayed comfortably on his favorite ottoman, sound asleep. So far so good. But no peppy little majordomo came to greet me. I went into the bedroom, thinking that perhaps Tim was taking a nice long nap also. No Tim. I checked my bedroom closets. Nope.
Finally I heard a pathetic little mewling sound from the direction of the living room, and I then realized that young Tim had darted into the pantry closet and had gotten stuck there for the whole day.
Ever seen a cat run with his back paws crossed? I did last night! My suspicion is that Tim barely made it to the grit box – but bless his little heart, he hadn’t done anything in the closet although he’d been there for 9 hours! I have no doubt he was sleeping most of that time.
After he’d made himself more comfortable, Tim came galloping onto my lap demanding affection and attention and lots of it. After 5 minutes of that, he jumped off my lap and proceeded to patrol the entire apartment for a good 2 hours – complaining non-stop. He would trot over to my lap once in a while, give me a head butt, and then he’d be back to his rounds, with occasional stops to annoy Sam who apparently was in Tim’s bad books because Sam hadn’t released Tim from the closet!
It didn’t help any that I was helpless with laughter through a lot of this. You know, cats consider themselves far too superior to be the object of laughter.
I love my cats. They fascinate, comfort and amuse. Their love is uncritical and their personalities are diverse. There is really no end to the complete delight afforded by a well raised and loved feline creature! And since I live with two wholly individual cats, I am doubly blessed.
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE.