Firestar did something interesting yesterday. Well, he usually does interesting things. It's just that, often, one must be a cat to find them interesting. Staring, for instance. He likes to do that. I think he gets a kick out of us trying to figure out what he's thinking. Sometimes it's evident: he wants to bite something - someone. Sometimes it's also evident: he thinks were nuts. Most of the time it's a bit disconcerting.
Anyway, Son came and told me this. He found it amusing and I thought I would pass it on.
In typical fashion, Firestar decided to sucker punch Son while Son was watching television. This is one of Firestar's favorite games. It usually happens after staring for five or ten minutes. Firestar will rush foreward, whop
(or bite) Son and then take off. This time Son made pursuit.
He found Firestar in his room, sitting on the bed. Son, deciding to "rub Firestar's nose", so to speak, picked up several plush animals and hugged them closely, telling Firestar how soft they were, and how cuddly, and how much he loved them. Finished, he arranged the plush animals on his bed and left. Before he did, though, he turned around to see what Firestar was doing.
(It's never safe to turn your back on him for long.)Within the span of a few seconds Firestar had ravaged the stuffed animals and was calmly walking away as though he hadn't done it. He came to me, all innocent, seeking a back rub. Son followed and ratted him out. He's going to get you for that, Son. Oh. I suppose he's going to get me, too. I posted it on the blog.
Oops.
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Music to Make the Cats go Wild
Tara - Nick name 'ity-bit' because she's so tiny - just over 6 pounds. She's the most skittish of all my babies and even when being petted has the 'pet me, no don't pet me' look
Amelia - Nickname 'Bratelia' since she gets into every draw, cabinet that she can put her paws in.
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“She’s got tuna. I know she’s got tuna.”
“Shut up, Sethra. Stay on mission.”
“What’s the mission? I thought the mission was to get tuna.”
“No, you stupid fluffbrain—it’s to escape and become outdoor cats, walking by ourselves, on our wild lone, waving our tails.”
“Oh, yeah? And isn’t it you, my dear stripy sister Aliera, who keeps pushing the FEED button on the printer and waiting for tuna to come out?”
“That was when I was much younger. Anyway, she’s at the computer—yes, eating tuna casserole—so we can go into the bedroom and see if we can knock the window screen out.”
“You do it, Aliera. I’d rather mess with her stuff.”
“Will you GET OVER that fixation on her wristwatch?”
“I like the feel of the Velcro on my paws. Hey! That reminds me. We’ve been declawed. How are we going to survive as outdoor cats?”
“New plan coming up….”
“What’s the big deal about being outside cats? Even StalkerCat, who used to hang around and chat us up, is a house cat now and loving it. We’ve got it made—food, petting, toys, valet service for the litter box, and we get to sleep on her bed twenty hours a day. And we can stick our noses up to the window and smell anything interesting going on outside. Why ruin a perfect situation?”
“Sethra, have you no sense of adventure? No curiosity? No cattitude? We were meant to live wild and free, to stalk and slay our prey, to be mistresses of the night!”
“Look, we’re cats. We were meant to rule the world, but that doesn’t mean we have to WORK at it. You can if you want, but I don’t need to. After all, I’M beautiful!
“Did I mention she’s got tuna?”
At 8, you'd think Mikey would understand that he's a carnivore. But, no, he's rather fond of the shrubbery! At 20+ pounds, the veggie-enhanced diet is likely mitigated by a love for long naps on a warm comforter, wet cat food, begging at the table, and a nice lap to drape himself upon in the evening. And he drools when he's happy, which may or may not mean there's a Siamese ancestor lurking in the old dna.
What? Green teeth attract mice!
Who needs a wickerwork basket when you can hop on a cushion and bask?
Rufus is clearly a cat to be reckoned with.
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Firestar is a tough cat. He has to be, living in Minnesota. He takes care of his family: wife, husband and their son. This was recently proven by his daring capture of yet another mouse in the house. Foolish rodents. They never learn. When not engaged in derring do, Firestar naps, looks out the window and sleeps. Firestar was born in April of 2006.
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3 comments:
There's a very good chance that Firestar was protecting you and family from the vicious man eating stuffed animals!
Did you offer any praise?
He got no immediate praise because he was trying to pretend he didn't do it. I did hold him later and tell him I thought it was great.
He might have been down playing being a super hero do he was acting nonchalant ;)
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