Poor Firestar. All of the packing seems to be stressful for him. We're going through our things and separating that which we hope to keep from that which we are letting go. The result is a chaotic mess throughout the house, particularly in the living room and family room, which are two of his three favorite rooms
(master bedroom being the third).
He's been having more "crazy days" than usual. These are the days when he can't sit still and takes off running at full tilt throughout the house. I took out a dozen boxes containing The Archives, and he couldn't explore them fast enough. All of the empty boxes become new caves into which he can hide.
That he's stressed is evident in that he's been more "bitey" than normal. He has no patience, even for gentle caresses across his back. He knows something's up, and he's concerned. Everyone's schedules are off. The routine is broken. He's really going to stress out, I think, when we're gone for three days and two nights. We're having a neighbor come in twice a day to make sure he has food and fresh water, but that is not a routine he has ever experienced before.
Cats aren't keen on changes. They just aren't.
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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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4 comments:
As I just moved in January, I can attest to how much cats hate change. Mikey howled ALL NIGHT for over a week, necessitating the bribery of wet food before bedtime so he'd take a freaking nap! Big bowl of canned cat food = silent until dawn. Mostly. But after a week he got over it pretty much.
At least we have THAT to look forward to.
Poor Firestar. And poor Bevie and family.
Thanks, Fairy.
Spouse just off the phone with the rental agency in Duluth. Three of our top six choices are now out of play for us - including our top choice.
Sigh.
At least we can walk through the family room without tripping now.
Right now, Firestar is sleeping on the rocker.
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