Meet Rocky

This is Rocky. He’s not one of mine, but is a cat being cared for by The Lethbridge PAW Society, of Lethbridge, Alberta. He’s one of about two dozen felines available for adoption through the Society.

The reason I’m showing Rocky’s picture is that he is going to be on location at the south-side Homes Alive store, on Saturday, March 17th, from one to four p.m. You can meet him, talk to him, pet him and get to know him. There will be PAW volunteers present, too, but you can’t pet them. They certainly don’t mind talking to you, though, especially about cats. I haven’t met Rocky myself, but he has been chosen for this unique role because he loves people and will be just fine with the crowds and the bustle.

If you would like to meet Rocky, come down to Homes Alive (910, 3rd Avenue South), Saturday afternoon. It’s also a great chance to inquire about other PAW cats you may have been considering for adoption, and to ask the volunteers anything at all about the Society and its cats. Also, raffle tickets will be on sale for the draw in August. Check out the PAW website (www.pawsociety.com) for a list of the prizes.

Rocky would love to see you this weekend!

Cats at Play Again

It’s funny how some routines remain and others change. All my cats like to play, as I described in an article just under a year ago. But in that time, they’ve all changed some of their preferences. Why is that? Is it in response to the altered dynamics of the group? Is it because they have found new activities that they like? Perhaps it’s due to several reasons.

Whatever the cause, the cats have varied their routines somewhat. I continue to use the string-toy when I play with them all together, because it enables me to go from one to the other. if I don’t, they become insulted or bored. Tungsten remains ambivalent toward play. She still does nothing but watch the others most of the time. She will hurry to hide behind a cat-tree or a corner, yet will not pounce or grab at the string-toy as it goes by. I feel bad about this because, with other cats waiting, I can’t spend ten minutes trying to entice her, as I could if she were an only-cat. However, she will periodically explode with energy and attack not just the string-toy but others that may be lying about. Becoming rambunctious, she will paw Josie if my Chubs is too near. Unlike her feelings toward Tucker, Tungsten’s assaults on Josie are in fun.

She has re-discovered a liking for the nylon tunnel. In the apartment, she used to zoom through it frequently. Perhaps it’s the fact that in the house, it rests on hardwood; she may not like that. But recently, she has sneaked in there to ambush something.

She has also found the space behind a door useful for launching an assault on the string toy. How enjoyable this is for her, however, depends on my aim.

Tucker has found exhilaration in running again. Sure, he runs when Renn chases him, especially when Renn is wrapped in a plastic bag and racing for his life. But Tucker will also run after the string-toy, as it is dragged along the floor. He will leap over the nylon tunnel - or stop short, if there is another cat in it - then, spying the toy heading in the opposite direction, turn and rush back, skidding on the linoleum.

Periodically, he will jam himself between the post of a cat-tree and its support. There, he will await the swing of the string-toy. If it lands on his top half, he will bite and wrestle with it. If the bottom half, he kick with his rear legs like a ticklish rabbit. He can be an odd animal.

He has also begun to learn the science of ambush. When he first came to live with me, he was frightened of certain toys, and his playing skills were not developed. He’s come a long way since then and now has begun attacking the string toy from behind a box. The first step was to wait behind the box for the toy to pass; then he mastered the idea of jumping on to the top of the box. It took him some time to realise that he should grab the toy as it went by, instead of just watching its progress. He is doing better and better all the time. The picture of this is, perhaps understandably, blurry.

Then there are the moments when he simply likes to take on a toy opponent by himself. He will step on it repeatedly with his hind legs, crushing it, or tear at it with his teeth. Then again, he may flip a kernel of hard food out of the bowl and chase it. But I’ve mentioned that before.

Renn continues to enjoy the nylon tunnel. He will hide in there when Josie is not inside (see below) and grab at the string-toy as it goes in an entrance or a hole in the top.

But lately Renn has become quite lazy. He will sit and wait for the toys to come to him. He will lie on the couch in the back parlour and move his head and forelegs to seize any toy near but otherwise, he will stay put. He especially dislikes moving from the heated cat-beds, of which he and Tungsten have become the principal occupants. There too he will lie curled up, cosy and warm, and wait for things to come to him. When it’s dinner-time, I tell him enough is enough, and heave him out. He’s certainly not out of shape; he’s just getting lazy.

Lastly, there’s Josie. My Chubs continues to enjoy simply rolling on the floor to tackle a toy as it swings past or over her. Sometimes, she will climb onto the cat-tree and play her games there. When I don’t spend enough time with her (or, as the other cats would call it, when I spend time with them), my round white one climbs down from the cat-tree with cries of annoyance.

But she also has learned the pleasures of playing in the nylon tunnel. This is new for her. Previously, the confines of the tunnel were just for snoozing, in her case. Her settling in the tunnel for some fun leads to conflict with Renn. One cannot pass the nylon tunnel and see the other inside without an exchange of blows occurring. Otherwise, they leave each other alone. Why the tunnel raises such intensity of feeling, I don’t know. Needless to say, when Josie is lying in the nylon tunnel waiting to play, Renn’s good time is ruined.

However, each of the cats will play by himself, too. Tungsten likes to zoom about the house like a small cyclone, usually just before and just after dinner; sometimes just after using the litter-box. Tucker will knock a ball, a fuzzy mouse or, as mentioned, a piece of food, over the floor. He and Renn will chase each other, though when my big boy pursues the roly poly one, it isn’t always in the spirit of fun. That’s when I step in. Josie doesn’t often play with toys by herself. But just yesterday, when I came home, she and Tucker engaged in their usual game of chase; they rarely do it any other time, and even then, it doesn’t last long. But I saw my Chubs crouching behind a wall lying in wait for her roommate.

And then there’s cat-thunder. Carl Sandburg wrote of fog coming in on little cat feet. My beasts can indeed be silent, but the late Mr Sandburg probably wasn’t downstairs while a heavy-set feline rushed back and forth on the floor above his head. I suspect this is often Tucker, perhaps with Renn, as well, and, once in a while, Josie. This most frequently happens while I am in the basement cleaning out the litter-boxes. Why it occurs then, I don’t know. Perhaps while the man’s away, the cats will play. In which case, I wonder what they are up to while I’m at work...

The Horror of the Closet Unleashed

Last night something happened which, though it caused no permanent damage or injury and, in fact, is funny in retrospect, caused me to think about consequences.

Renn periodically asks to be let into the back parlour’s closet. There are some bags and boxes there, and my big boy likes to rummage about, perhaps seeking something to fire his scientific interest. He certainly has a curiosity in all things hidden. I let him explore and then go about doing whatever it is I do. Last evening, Tucker followed him in.

I heard, after a few minutes, a rustling, scraping, crunching sound. I guessed that the two were going through a plastic bag full of toys that I keep in store. I never let the cats near plastic bags when I am absent. What’s bad for children is bad for pets. But Josie likes nestling among the bags I keep in the front closet and Renn likes examining bags elsewhere. As long as I can see or hear them, I consider it safe.

This night, I heard a flurry of rushing and, a second later, Tucker bolted from the closet, followed closely by Renn. I thought they were chasing each other, something they do which my big boy always likes and Tucker sometimes does. Then I saw that a plastic bag had looped itself around Renn’s head and shoulder. He was fleeing in terror from this creature which had latched itself on to him, and Tucker was running for his life ahead of him.

Into the sitting room they rocketed. The bag must have burst there, for there were balls and string and fuzzy mice everywhere. But the monster clung to my big boy regardless of any wound it may have suffered. Through the kitchen and down the stairs, Renn dashed; Tucker was frantic to get away from him but Renn followed, probably thinking only that Tucker knew of a safe place to hide.

Calling to them was useless and it wasn’t until they charged up the steps again that I managed to capture Renn, letting Tucker fly by first. Renn was in no frame of mind to reason; he was frightened, and growled and hissed (the latter a rarity with him) when I tried to break the plastic loops that fettered the evil creature to him. I managed to persuade him to keep still while I fetched a pair of scissors, with which I cut away the bag. Renn, freed at last, hurried off.

Tucker retreated the refuge of the top of the tallest cat-tree, while Josie scurried downstairs and only returned as far as the top stair. Tungsten viewed the whole debacle with detached interest. I wanted to see if Renn had injured himself and started petting and stroking him while he lie on the bedroom floor. Soon, he was purring his rough enjoyment and I was able to examine him for damage. All was well.

I decided that treats were in order. At first, I had to give Tucker his on consecutively lower platforms of the cat-tree, to coax him down. I did the same with my Chubs on the stairs, providing treats increasingly farther into the kitchen. For the rest of the night, Josie eyed Renn warily, but by bed-time, everyone was back to normal, and ready for a good night’s sleep.

This has persuaded me not to let any of the cats near plastic bags, whether I am present or not. Perhaps I should have made this decision earlier; on the other hand, I may be overly cautious. Renn loves exploring new things, but he is also very sensitive and easily frightened. There are many other, safer playthings available. Though I can see the humour of it, my cats may not share such amusement (except perhaps Tungsten, who was probably chuckling disdainfully the whole time), so I will be careful. For the next little while, though, I don’t think I will need to be. Renn likely won’t ask for entry to the closet of fear for some time.

Roly Poly Cat-bed

Tucker is my newest cat. As you may know from previously reading about him, I fostered him for more than a year. He had troubles in his prior home (what was meant to be his permanent home), in that he wet where he shouldn’t. When he came to live with me, he wet in a couple of cat-beds. I explained that in a past article. However, it was a bit of a renewed concern with me lately because I bought a new cat-bed. I wanted to put the almost-as-new heating pad under its cushion to provide perfect comfort for my beasts, especially Tungsten, the oldest and thinnest, during the winter. I bought one cat-bed initially, to make sure Tucker didn’t do something in it he oughtn’t.

He didn’t. He was cautious about the new furniture, but largely ignored it, so I bought a second cat-bed, then a second heating pad to go into it. Tucker remained the only cat not interested in trying the beds.

Last week, I put him near a cat-bed and he examined it. He sniffed it, he stood on its cushion but, ultimately, he decided that he didn’t care for it. That has changed to some extent. He now can be found from time to time curled up in one of them, whether the heating pad is plugged in or not. I wouldn’t have believed that his sausage shape could curl as it does, but he achieves it with, apparently, no discomfort. I have not been able to record the event on camera yet, as he tends to get up and walk away most times that I try.

However, Tucker does seem to enjoy the new beds. He uses them the least of the four animals, though this may be influenced by the fact that the others, logically, use them more, and therefore they are not always available. Tungsten and Renn are the cats who can be found in the beds most often, and I’m glad to relate that when Tungsten finds my big boy occupying the favourite bed, she does wander over to the other, if that is vacant.

It’s good to know that my pets like the new furnishings. Practically, it’s good because they represent money spent, and one likes to see it translated into something useful. Sentimentally, I just like watching the beasts as they settle down for a snooze in comfort. Now, I can watch Tucker do the same, now and then.

Awards

Though most people who write blogs do so for their own amusement or interest, and don’t worry too much if no one else notices, it is nice when someone does, and leaves comments. My readership was, initially, very local. But due to the Cat Blogosphere, a very wide array of cat-bloggers, it has become international.

I’ve read stories by bloggers from here in Canada, in the United States, in England and elsewhere. Comments on my own have come from the United Kingdom, Europe and South America. There are a number of links to the right of my posts that will lead you to some of the cats I keep up with, though that isn’t the full number.

Recently, my blog was given two awards by generous fellow bloggers, the Liebster Award, from Marg’s Pets, and the Versatile Blog Award, from Andrea and the Celestial Kitties. I don’t know what I may have done to deserve such distinction, but it was very thoughtful to be mentioned, and I thank them. In addition to the consideration implied, the awards have also made this blog known to still more people.

I find with some embarrassment that I was awarded the Liebster as long ago as the end of last year, and I haven’t fulfilled the conditions of the award, as easy-going as they are. Simply enough, I am to pass the award on to five other blogs that have fewer than two hundred followers each. There are quite a few that I follow so that shouldn’t be difficult - though many have more than 200 followers. I am also to let these blogs know that I have passed the award on to them.

The first recipient I have chosen is a fellow Canadian blog, Cat’s Cats; next, Laila and Minchie, one of the first blogs I started reading; Bobbie and the Bunch at Cats/Goats/Quotes, for their enjoyment of all animals; Dora, from Between Cats, in remembrance of Fat Eric, whom I loved to read about. And finally, Feral Cat Behaviour, a private rescuer in the United States, who cares so much for all cats. These are not in any particular order; each deserves an award.

The Versatile Blog Award is also to be passed on to others, fifteen, to be exact, but I will mention another five.

Random Felines, due to their ability to post still-pictures and videos, a versatility that I was able to achieve just once; Fuzzy Tales, because they too are Canadians, and we are a versatile nationality; Eric and Flynn (Two Devon Cats), due of the adventures they get up to on their farm; Miss Peach at the Cozy Cottage (though Miss Peach is gone, her blog continues with art, photos and affection) and, finally, to KC and the Sherwood Bunch over at Missy Blue Eyes - it takes versatility to keep the Cat Blogosphere news service going.

Now, the winners of these awards are in theory supposed to pass it on to others. But I don’t want any of them to feel obligated, so I will suggest that they pass it on only when and if they find someone deserving. I would encourage everyone to visit the blogs mentioned; they are fun and entertaining, and in many cases, informative.

Renn Widens His Field of Study

Renn has a new interest.

As you may know from reading my stories, Renn has a scientific bent. His most frequent field of study is water. He is fascinated by its fall, shimmer, ripples, even its stillness. He will watch a dripping tap for an hour or more, and stare at a bowl of water for almost as long, tapping it with a paw now and then to get a reaction.

But now, my investigator of natural phenomena has found something new to intrigue him: linoleum.

He has taken to lying on a box and staring at the floor. The box was placed so that the cats, in particular Josie, could enjoy the little cat-quilt that they now have. Renn, however, prefers to use the box as a platform for the study of linoleum. He lies on its top and gazes at the floor. Sometimes, his head moves suddenly, as if watching some some object, invisible to me, dart across his vision.

I think he may be amazed by shapes and colours to an extent greater than my other cats. It may be the dance of light and shadow that draws him to examine water. If that’s the case, then the same may apply to the floor’s surface. In any case, he can occupy a great deal of his time studying what’s beneath him. He may one day discover something life-changing in the gentle ridges and shallow valleys of linoleum. Or he may just enjoy himself. Whatever the result, I sometimes think that only his inability to hold a pencil and take notes prevents him from being one of our foremost scientific thinkers.

Bag Cats

I bought some groceries the other day, and had them delivered. Some came in the usual, cheap plastic bags. You know, the sort that are so thin they’re practically two-dimensional. Some are claimed to be ‘biodegradable’; it’s true, because they seem to biodegrade before I get out of the parking lot. Besides, plastic is indeed biodegradable; it simply takes 50,000 years. I digress.

Josie likes settling for a snooze into a large plastic bag full of smaller plastic bags. I don’t let her do that unless she is under my direct supervision. If children can smother with a plastic bag, so can cats. But this time, the fruit I purchased was placed into paper bags; good, old-fashioned paper bags. Retailers hate them because they can’t make paper bags so thin that they cost a ten cents per billion to make, like plastic. My cats like them because they are enclosed like boxes, but crushable, and they make noise.

Tungsten staked a claim to them early on, but all four cats enjoyed them. Tucker made a run at one bag and hit it with a bang. It startled the others, but he liked it. It’s a good thing I have the new bags: most of their other toys have been lost, or eaten...