Hello; I'm sorry I've been so scarce around here. Some of my journaling energy -- never the most sparkly anyway -- has gone into making myself accountable to my supporters on Patreon; some has gone into Twitter. But neither of those is really here. Hence, for the moment, two anecdotes:
Lydy is out of town for a couple of weeks and I'm looking after her cats. (David ends up helping a lot, but it's my responsibility overall.) I had given Naomi, our senior cat, some chicken broth and wet food with her Tapazole (thyroid medication) in it. She tends to eat in stages, leaving the food for various amounts of time. When we can, we corral the other three cats in the upstairs and shut Naomi into the staircase. She insists on having her food on a shelf beneath the first-floor window of the back staircase, and there is no point in trying to dissuade her, since she is bossy, notional, and not in the best of health. In any case, left to themselves, Ninja will gently pat her tail until she leaves, and then finish her food for her; whereas Nuit is allergic to a lot of things and will eat the food when Naomi takes a break, and then redistribute it all over the downstairs at the worse possible time. I had Lady Jane, who in any case doesn't care for wet food, and Ninja on the right side of the door, but Nu had come upstairs, sussed out the situation, and run down to hide in the basement so that I couldn't prevent her from eating the food and then throwing it all up spectacularly.
I was therefore hanging around in the kitchen keeping an eye on Naomi and on Ninja, and petting Lady Jane. I remembered Lydy's telling me that Lady Jane really loved playing with a stick toy, so I found one hanging on the wall. It was just a stick with a string on it, the toy on the end having presumably been demolished or dragged off to somebody's lair. But Lady perked right up, so I moved the string for her, and she galloped up and down the hallway and around and around the kitchen several times in hot pursuit. Then Nu came into the kitchen to see what was going on, so I put down the toy and hastened to shut the door between Nu and Naomi's food. Lady went on galloping without benefit of the toy.
There was a gentle crash and a series of muffled thumps. I went into the hallway to find Lady Jane staring in horror at the overturned telephone table. The actual telephone was lying in the litterbox that it shares the hallway with. I fished out the phone. A few days earlier the upstairs toilet had overflowed, and I'd brought the germicidal wipes I got to sanitize my glucometer downstairs to clean up the resultant drips that came through the ceiling. Then, naturally, I forgot to bring the wipes back upstairs, so they were right there in the bathroom. I wiped down the phone and let it dry, upended the table, disentangled the cord from the table pedestal, and when the phone was dry reassembled it. I'm not sure it should live in the hall any more. I went to reassure Lady, but she had gone under the sofa in the media room, so I fear she blames me for everything.
Raphael periodically asks me, "Did you realize that Saffron's food is entirely made of oats?" This means that Saffron is either racing up and down the house or following Raphael around Raphael's office, standing on the back of the chair and putting her paws on Raphael's chest, and other shenanigans, including knocking over my laundry so she can sneak into my closet and sleep on the skirts of my dresses or standing on the back of an armchair and gazing longingly at the ceiling. Not long ago, she was obsessed with coming down the front staircase with me and investigating the front hall and the downstairs living and dining rooms, otherwise known as the cat-free zone. I was getting ready to go have tea with![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
elisem and successfully eluded Saffron when I went down to put on my boots. However, Raphael came down a few minutes later to put some packages out to be collected, and she sailed down then and vanished into the sunroom, which is currently filled with furniture I need to find a good home for, and therefore inaccessible to people unless they crawl on their bellies. Raphael waited her out and scooped her up and brought her back upstairs, and I was only a little late for tea. A few days later, however, Saffron pretended to heed me when I told her to please back off so I could go downstairs, sped down ahead of me, and bounded into the living room. I followed her resignedly, at least not needing to catch a bus this time, and found her in the armchair where Lydy had put a new bag of dry food in preparation for leaving town. Saffron was industriously puncturing the bag with her teeth. I picked her up with no trouble and carried her upstairs. She is always cooperative when you carry her away, not squirming or making a fuss, but only twisting her neck to look wonderingly into your face. You are weird to do this thing whenever she's having fun, but she likes you, so whatever.
Pamela
Lydy is out of town for a couple of weeks and I'm looking after her cats. (David ends up helping a lot, but it's my responsibility overall.) I had given Naomi, our senior cat, some chicken broth and wet food with her Tapazole (thyroid medication) in it. She tends to eat in stages, leaving the food for various amounts of time. When we can, we corral the other three cats in the upstairs and shut Naomi into the staircase. She insists on having her food on a shelf beneath the first-floor window of the back staircase, and there is no point in trying to dissuade her, since she is bossy, notional, and not in the best of health. In any case, left to themselves, Ninja will gently pat her tail until she leaves, and then finish her food for her; whereas Nuit is allergic to a lot of things and will eat the food when Naomi takes a break, and then redistribute it all over the downstairs at the worse possible time. I had Lady Jane, who in any case doesn't care for wet food, and Ninja on the right side of the door, but Nu had come upstairs, sussed out the situation, and run down to hide in the basement so that I couldn't prevent her from eating the food and then throwing it all up spectacularly.
I was therefore hanging around in the kitchen keeping an eye on Naomi and on Ninja, and petting Lady Jane. I remembered Lydy's telling me that Lady Jane really loved playing with a stick toy, so I found one hanging on the wall. It was just a stick with a string on it, the toy on the end having presumably been demolished or dragged off to somebody's lair. But Lady perked right up, so I moved the string for her, and she galloped up and down the hallway and around and around the kitchen several times in hot pursuit. Then Nu came into the kitchen to see what was going on, so I put down the toy and hastened to shut the door between Nu and Naomi's food. Lady went on galloping without benefit of the toy.
There was a gentle crash and a series of muffled thumps. I went into the hallway to find Lady Jane staring in horror at the overturned telephone table. The actual telephone was lying in the litterbox that it shares the hallway with. I fished out the phone. A few days earlier the upstairs toilet had overflowed, and I'd brought the germicidal wipes I got to sanitize my glucometer downstairs to clean up the resultant drips that came through the ceiling. Then, naturally, I forgot to bring the wipes back upstairs, so they were right there in the bathroom. I wiped down the phone and let it dry, upended the table, disentangled the cord from the table pedestal, and when the phone was dry reassembled it. I'm not sure it should live in the hall any more. I went to reassure Lady, but she had gone under the sofa in the media room, so I fear she blames me for everything.
Raphael periodically asks me, "Did you realize that Saffron's food is entirely made of oats?" This means that Saffron is either racing up and down the house or following Raphael around Raphael's office, standing on the back of the chair and putting her paws on Raphael's chest, and other shenanigans, including knocking over my laundry so she can sneak into my closet and sleep on the skirts of my dresses or standing on the back of an armchair and gazing longingly at the ceiling. Not long ago, she was obsessed with coming down the front staircase with me and investigating the front hall and the downstairs living and dining rooms, otherwise known as the cat-free zone. I was getting ready to go have tea with
elisem and successfully eluded Saffron when I went down to put on my boots. However, Raphael came down a few minutes later to put some packages out to be collected, and she sailed down then and vanished into the sunroom, which is currently filled with furniture I need to find a good home for, and therefore inaccessible to people unless they crawl on their bellies. Raphael waited her out and scooped her up and brought her back upstairs, and I was only a little late for tea. A few days later, however, Saffron pretended to heed me when I told her to please back off so I could go downstairs, sped down ahead of me, and bounded into the living room. I followed her resignedly, at least not needing to catch a bus this time, and found her in the armchair where Lydy had put a new bag of dry food in preparation for leaving town. Saffron was industriously puncturing the bag with her teeth. I picked her up with no trouble and carried her upstairs. She is always cooperative when you carry her away, not squirming or making a fuss, but only twisting her neck to look wonderingly into your face. You are weird to do this thing whenever she's having fun, but she likes you, so whatever.Pamela
