The humans have been on a Spring Cleaning, “rid the house of grey fur” mission for over a week now. If you’ve seen pictures of my kitty family then you know that grey fur is where it’s at around here. The little white psycho cat even has grey and black splotches of fur! I will admit that there was a lot of grey fur hanging around after the winter.
Last Monday the crazy human lady discovered that the motor was ka-put on yet another vacuum cleaner. She goes through a couple a year—and this one’s number was past being up, so we weren’t sure why she was surprised or irritated by this. Sometimes humans just get ticked by the small stuff. Example: Empty food bowl for 8 hours=big stuff. Noisy sweeper not making noise=not so big.
She got a new sweeper. Of course, it’s louder, scarier and far more traumatic for us than the old one. I personally despise vacuum cleaners. When I was younger—and smaller—I had a favorite nap spot under the oldest human kid’s bed. There were often stuffed animals under there…the occasional dust bunny…even a few milk bottle rings that had gone astray. It was a cool place. Very rarely does the Dad-Human take on sweeper duty—but, when he does, anything that he deems insignificant (i.e. Barbie shoes, checkers, game pieces, etc.) that gets in range gets sucked up—and if it’s too big for the attachment hose, he says it’s easier to pick up from the end of the hose than from the floor. Dads. Who understands them? He was sweeping away and I was sleeping away in the kid’s room one Saturday. Next thing I knew, Dad mistook MY tail for a stuffed animal tail and tried to pick me up from under the edge of the bed with his handy dandy attachment. Woke me up, I’ll tell you! The Dad-human thought it was hilarious. Frito find it funny? Not so much. (Gave Gina first time permission to launch Covert Operation P in Dad’s laundry basket)
Needless to say, I hate sweepers—and when Dad’s at the controls, I head for higher ground every time. We cats think they wouldn’t need to sweep things constantly if those crazy humans would just buy something besides WHITE, Off White, Beige and tan. Carpet, every piece of furniture, rugs, blah! They wouldn’t even know the fur was there if they would just go grey!
Furniture should be required to match the cats—then everyone would be at peace. I’ve been told that cat fur brings good luck, you know. This is one lucky house, let me tell you! I just heard that Dad’s home today. Hopefully he’ll go mow something down in the yard and not in the living room! Just in case, I think I’ll sleep up on the back of the sofa today….need to start the graying process on the furniture again anyway!
Those of you who know me, know that Lea the cat is the love of my life. She is sweet and peaceloving and so wonderful. Well, these butterflies that the humans are growing are turning my little peace loving flower kitty into a Gina style violent protester. She has been so out of character that we hardly recognize her.
In an effort to rediscover her peaceful, artsy side, she wrote some poetry...but, again, we find it a little out of character for her. It's not even in proper sonnet form! Lea is a stickler for proper grammar and poetic rhythm in her work, you know? Even Gina is ready to get the old Lea back! We have reached a group cat decision: It's time for those darned butterflies to move out!
Lea's Sonnet #1 Ode to Butterflies
Shall I compare thee to an olive black?
Thou art more crunchy and more brown:
Olive round doth roll down a hallway and back,
But would not be so tickly on the way down:
Sometime too fast away the olive rolls,
And oft' is disappeareth from my sight;
And the olive fair is oft’ but merely holes,
By chance it seems it too dries out by night:
But thy eternal goodness shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that flutter thou owest;
For shall Death thou meet after we have played,
Where in my tummy for a time thou un-growest:
So long as cats can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, I shall still taste thee.
See? She's gone off the deep end! Butterflies, be gone! We need Lea back!
Of course, this is just the opinion of one, petrified-of-the-outdoors fat cat, you know? The humans have been so wrapped up with yard work and running around with time-sponging little human creature critters that the cat-folk have been practically abandoned for nearly a week!
I have no clue what's great about the outside. When I get dragged out the door (and I mean DRAGGED), I put up a fight with every ounce of my being. Ask my vet, that's a lot of fight. I am an inside cat, and proud of it.
I see no redeeming qualities to the so-called Great Outdoors. It's been wet and muddy here for days. Wet paws are not an option for this big man. The dog smells horrible after he comes inside....of course, he doesn't smell April Fresh anyway, I guess, so the outside may not be entirely to blame for that.
The Great Fluff seems to like it out there...but, the girls and I are pretty sure he's missing more in the upstairs than an attic....dumb dumb Fluff we call him not so affectionately...I like to watch the birds from my window--they are so pretty. Couldn't imagine trying to eat one. (Although if the diet police don't lighten up, I may just give one a try...I think I'm a leg man..)
I guess the abundance of bugs and spiders could (and I said could) make going outside worthwhile....if I could get them without getting my paws dirty or burrs in my furs...nope, I really think I'll just let them bring the outside in to me. I can average a spider or bug every three to four days on the inside...that's good enough--I have a sensitive tummy anyway.
But--the humans seem to like it out there, so, of course, the cats get punished. Can't get on the computer, have to be subjected to Gina's unsupervised rants on the wrongs of the world for HOURS now since she isn't in hiding from the little humans, and I have to worry about when my food bowl is going to get its daily crumbs...the stress.
I have grumbled about the rain a lot for the past week or so...Heck, we are in Ohio, I've grumbled about the rain and snow my whole life! But, I have been enlightened. I am seeing some value in the rain: the humans have more time for the cats. I'm torn...wet dog smell on a rainy day or humans to indulge me...Bring on the rain.