The Loneliness of the Long-distance Writer

I have a lot of company when I sit down at the computer. Moxy enjoys lying in front of me while I work, or, as I like to call it, ‘preventing me from working’. His big fat head pretty much blots out the monitor’s screen.

Imogen enjoys walking back and forth between me and the monitor, to remind me that she considers herself my favourite feline. The giant kittens aren’t much better, especially Andante, who likes to stretch in front of me, playing with things that he shouldn’t. There is also Largo, whose presence is less disruptive but still distracting. Here he is playing with the cursor on the screen.

Whoever said that writing is a lonely business didn’t have cats.

My Hallowe'en Visitors

Last night was Hallowe’en, making today All Hallows Day or Hallowmas. My first Hallowe’en here, I had no visitors asking fort candy. I suspect that no one knew that the house, recently for sale, was re-occupied. Last year, I had three children wanting candy. Last night, there were four visits, comprising eight children and their accompanying parents.

No, I had five visits. The first was an odd one. It was a woman selling chocolates for Philippine disaster relief. Am I the only person who thinks that Hallowe’en is the worst possible time to sell candy for any reason? Not only are most houses stocked full with candy (much of which will be left over and consumed by the residents) but it is being given away free of charge, literally for the asking.

I gave the woman some money because it’s a good cause. One might suggest that it was a scam, as some such visits are. In that case, one would have to consider that the woman laid out money for the chocolate she carried (or for convincingly wrapped empty boxes, which themselves would have been costly in funds, time and effort), probably little of which she would have re-made in donations to her fake cause.

In other words, the woman’s appeal was genuine, or she was the worst con artist my town has ever seen. Therefore, she deserved something, either to help unfortunate people, or out of pity for her horrible effort at fraud. It’s a tough prospect for a person in either case.

That Is Not a Toy!

I went home after work on Tuesday, and soon after, I saw Andante and Largo playing with something on the linoleum floor. It looked like a kernel of hard-food. They were batting it around like a tiny soccer ball. I looked closer. It was not a kernel of hard-food. It was a minuscule turd.

“That is not a toy!”

I went home on Wednesday, and heard, as soon as I came in the door, a noise downstairs in the library. Andante was down there playing with something, something that sounded different than any other sound I’d heard. I descended the stairs and found the giant kitten playing with a disposable razor, a disposable razor with the cover of its blade cracked and half-off. He had raided the bathroom cupboard for it.

“That is not a toy!”

Returning to the Cosy Cabin on Thursday, I greeted the cats as always and proceeded to scoop, sweep and vacuum, and generally mitigate the disasters the beasts make during the day. I went downstairs and, in the dark, saw something floating in a water-bowl. I turned on the light. It was a little receptacle of Restoralax I had had for Indigo and had forgotten in a bathroom cupboard. The Tempos had found it, knocked it down the stairs and somehow lifted it up and dropped into water.

“That is not a toy!”

Every day is another instance of the cats messing with me, doing things they ought not, and generally playing with my mind.

“That is not a toy!”

Don't Ask...

Half the time I would like to know what goes through a cat’s mind; the other half, I want no part of knowing.

Largo has taken sometimes to lying on the bathroom floor, staring at the bathtub. He doesn’t stare into it, but at it; at the side. He doesn’t move during these episodes. He just stares. The side isn’t reflective enough to show him an image. There is no movement, and he himself doesn’t act as though he were following something he can see. He simply lies on the floor and contemplates the tub.

Half the time I would like to know what goes through a cat’s mind; the other half, I want no part of knowing. I think this is an instance of the latter…

When He is Comfortable

I find it interesting that Coda allows me to pet him under three conditions: when we are playing together, when I am feeding him, and when he is with other cats. At other times, while he is becoming less skittish toward me, he still would like to avoid me actually touching him, if possible. Using the aforementioned conditions, though, I will try to pick him up more often; just lifting him and putting him down again. He has come a long way. Now, we’ll see how far he can continue to go.

A Movie with a Friend

For some reason, Imogen has started spending a great deal of time by the west window in the back parlour. This has just started in the last few days. I certainly don’t mind this, as it gives her a new venue, and she enjoys looking out the window.

It also has provided me with a bonus: Imo decided to watch some of last night’s movie with me. Maybe she’s an Aldo Ray fan…

And an Adventure for Allegro, Too

Allegro will be going to his new home tomorrow, about noon. His person is a young woman who impressed the rescue-group quite a bit with her maturity, understanding and willingness to learn. There is already present a young and active cat who misses a roommate’s cat who left with the roommate. Allegro is a very easy-going and friendly fellow, so I foresee few difficulties.

Rhapsody must be wondering where the kids are getting to these days…