Our house is over a century old and a bit drafty. I have to place plastic over the windows to keep out some of the chill. As a result, the cat’s favorite program “Nature Out the Window” is muffled for the season. When it warms, I remove the plastic and switch out the storm windows for screens. The felines are delighted to watch, smell, and listen to all that is in their range. I know that their senses are much more acute than a human’s and it makes them blissful.
Minnesota experienced an extended winter and a painful seesaw of weather as spring struggled with the jet stream. I had removed the plastic but snow ensued so the window had to remain closed. Tilly went to the window and plaintively cried as she scratched at it. I felt sorry for her but wasn’t about to let the frigid air into the house. I had turned off the furnace and can’t afford to turn it back on. Her wee walnut sized brain just couldn’t figure out why the delights of the window were not at her disposal. Aww, such a poor maligned thing.
I rotate the toys to keep her occupied. Otherwise Tilly will find other ways to fill her time. She has discovered that she likes to jump from the dining room table to the top of the china cabinets. Because she is short she sometimes misses and goes crashing onto the floor below. It is quite a disturbing sound. I can’t move either piece of furniture so I have to block off the top of the cabinet with a box to keep Tilly from the top of the cabinet. Not attractive.
Tilly has mastered the art of woebegone. She will cry at a specific pitch that makes me go on alert. Scientists actually spent money to determine that cats vocalize at the same pitch that human infants do, that is how felines manipulate us with their supposed tears. She will moan for treats, whine for attention, cry for who the hell knows why. Pavlov’s Dog has nothing on me; she has trained me to respond to her needs. Woof – woof.
When I reach into the drawer to withdraw the manual can opener, she will rush in and asks, “Now?” Tilly is absolutely certain that every can is tuna or some type of treat for her. Her excited meowing brings in Zozo who joins the harassment. I rarely give them a taste but sometimes I will show them the can and they are often repulsed by the contents. It’s funny to see their face express disgust, especially anything with vinegar. Their pooh smells of vinegar so they probably think that I’m eating crap. One day I was puttering in the kitchen and I swear that Tilly waltzed in and said, “For me?” I guess that I have spent too much time with felines when I actually start to understand their language. Perhaps I shall procure a canine when funding permits…
This is sweet Zozo.
Cat Lady Lives Here.
© Copyright 2013 Ima B. Musing: all rights reserved.
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