cats

A Weighty Burden – ND #5

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments
OMG – Photo: L. Weikel

A Weighty Burden

You know, it’s hard being an older sibling. Not that I have any personal experience in that regard, mind you. I don’t. But I imagine it must occasionally feel like a weighty burden to shoulder.

I watch the sibling relationships between the felines and canines in this household and marvel at how much they ‘get’ each other. The whole cat/dog mythology is mostly, in my opinion, an extension of the male/female propaganda box we put ourselves into. There’s a lot more playfulness and actual caring going on between species than we care to admit.

Just this morning I was treated to a prolonged interaction between Cletus and Brutus. It probably seemed longer to me because at any moment I expected Cletus to haul off and whack Brutus into next week. And it’s in those moments when I’ve witnessed the most startling acts of gentleness.

But there are also some nuts and bolts training going on as well.

“I love you, Cletus!” – Photo: L. Weikel

Knock It Off

I led this blog post off with the photo above because it made me laugh. I hope it had a similar effect on you as you begin this mid-week of December. There’s a lot going on in the world. We need to remain limber and loose as we head into the final few weeks of 2021.

Of course, Brutus thinks Cletus is an icon. Perhaps someday Brutus can aspire to grow his black and white hair as long and luxurious as Cletus grows his. Of course, when he realizes his idol isn’t running away from him for once, he leans in to give him an impulsive, if utterly sincere, smooch.

Cletus, shocked by the youngster’s lack of decorum exercises restraint, but can’t help but whisper some advice into young Brutus’s ear. Whether it’s appropriate for the rest of the world to hear is debatable.

“I’ll tell you what…” – Photo: L. Weikel

The Way of the World

Judging by the expression on Brutus’s face, I have a feeling Cletus schooled the pup in some classic naughty words. It’s the way of the world. That’s what older siblings do. They pave the way for our growth, intentionally or otherwise. A well-placed claw can be one of the first hard lessons of the cruelties facing us in the outside world.

All in all, though, watching their relationship develop is an absolute delight. And I love imagining their conversations.

“Mommy. He said bad words.” – Photo: L. Weikel

(T+5)

Full Moon Cletus – Day 335

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Clete and Precious – Weirdness begins – Photo: L. Weikel

Full Moon Cletus

Our ‘thinks-he’s-a-badass’ cat, Cletus, is one of those felines who loves you one second and tries to stab you in the eye the next.

Especially around the full moon.

This is unlike Tigger, who comes to me like a puppy when I call, cuddles with me in bed, and honestly seems to adore me most of the time. Even when he’s angry with me, he just flicks his tail in my general direction. Never does retaliation figure in his  agenda.Nor does Cletus resemble Precious, who flees from any discord immediately, whether it’s real or imagined, and does not return until we’ve all long forgotten whatever it was that made her bolt to begin with.

In the past day or two, with the approaching full moon, Cletus’s been pulling out all the stops to make me think he might actually love me. OK. Have affection for me.

I’ll admit, it can be intoxicating to have an animal look at me adoringly. And I fall for it each and every time. It’s like Lucy and the football.

Weirdness

So I was skeptical a few days ago when, out of the blue, Cletus started randomly showing up on my usual seat on the couch. In fact, the first morning this usurpation of my space began, I was nearly ready to sound the alarm – for not only was Cletus hanging out where I usually sit – so was Precious. And they were sleeping beside each other!

This was some seriously anomalous behavior.

I will eat you and your young! Photo: L. Weikel

Since that initial incident, I’ve witnessed Cletus sleeping deeply on my red backjack a number of times.  Today was no exception.

The only difference this morning was that I managed to snap a few photos that capture exactly the volatility of his emotions. And for the record? He did manage to snag me. Yup; he drew blood. Not a lot, but enough. I swear, he never lost his ‘kitten claws.” They’re so sharp, he often nails me and I don’t even realize it until several hours later.

Watch your feline companions tonight, people. Werecats.  I’m pretty sure they’re a thing.

“What? A Gentle Spirit lives here…” – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-776)

Guilty Pleasures – Day Forty Seven

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments

Guilty Pleasures

We had several conversations about kitties in our house today.  Not only do we have three cats of our own (as well as two Boston Terriers who think they’re cats), but our youngest son and his fiancé have two adolescent purr-pusses as well. And they are visiting for the holidays, so we are a ‘full house,’ so to speak!

One of our cats, Tigger, has a guilty pleasure that we simply can’t abide. Not that it’s gross or disgusting. No. But it poses a danger to him if we’re not careful.

He’s into ribbons. Specifically, the thin, dangly kind that adorn festive holiday gifts and – if he’s really lucky – have little bells attached.

You have to understand. Tigger’s a really laid back cat. He rarely gets bent out of shape about anything. He’s very quiet – unflappable, even. When he first arrived in our home, he was already a grown cat (his paperwork said he was 8 or 9 years old, I believe), and he was entering a household that already had an established pecking order.

Tigger was quite clearly at the bottom of that order. Indeed, he was so far on the bottom of the pecking order that he pretty much retreated under a bed in our son Sage’s room and refused to come out.

We were concerned that he might just waste away. For at least the first week that he lived with us, we only saw his tail as he bolted back under the bed. We’d occasionally hear growling and hissing, and that was a ‘tell’ that White Satan, aka Gandalf the White (the deaf all-white terror), had cornered Tigger under the bed and was teaching him who was alpha-puss. It was hard to break those fracases up, since Gandalf was deaf. So we couldn’t even yell at him to stop.

Call Me By My Name

When I saw Tigger’s adoption paperwork and realized we’d been calling him by the wrong name, everything changed. It was astonishing and immediate. His entire demeanor shifted and it was as if he heaved a huge sigh of relief. “You finally know who I am!” he seemed to be saying.

Overnight, his personality shifted. He started coming out from under the bed. He started purring.

And then I caught him. I heard scrambling noises and the tinkling of a bell somewhere in the kitchen and I didn’t know what it was. I looked under the table and only saw Tigger, blinking up at me, all innocent.

I turned away and heard it again.

His Wild Side Comes Out

And then I saw it. The ribbon dangling from his mouth. The furtive look in his eye.

His guilty pleasure. Perhaps a self-soothing activity? Or maybe a celebratory indulgence.

Whatever it was, he clearly was still in touch with his inner kitten – and it is adorable.

We try to keep all ribbons picked up so he can’t swallow them in over-indulgence. But every now and then, I let him play with them and act all “Tigger Gone Wild.”

Tonight was one of those nights. We all need to indulge in guilty pleasures now and again. Just stay safe. ; )

(T-1064)