What are the kitties thinking when they peer out at the rain?
I know my Mimi would love to be outdoors, but I won’t let her wander. It’s too dangerous outside the confines of my home, with a wooded ravine in the back and a very busy street directly in front.
I house-sat last year, and hauled the cats over to this pretty place on the lake, with woods and the brush all around. No way in heaven or earth I was going to let them run free. Not only would they likely get lost, whoever did find them (probably a coyote) would discover them covered in ticks and fleas and whatever other grunge lies out there.
I know, there’s medicine for that. They can also stay inside.
Inside is pretty appealing these days, with lots of places to climb and hide. My latest creation? It happened quite by accident when I decided to protect the desk chair at the aforementioned house.
The cats had turned my own desk chair into a fine scratching post, despite having two such already, and I didn’t want to have to spend everything I made housesitting replacing my friend’s desk chair. So I covered it with a sleeping bag. Turns out this makes a great tent for cats. They spent hours under there, huddled together in one furry mass.
At our own home, I cover my desk chair with a blanket when I’m not using it. I should make one thing clear. My laptop is at a different desk, with a different (rather uncomfortable yet decor-appropriate) “desk chair.”
When they’re giving the world that faraway stare, are they sometimes thinking, what’s wrong with our mama? She isn’t happy today. I wish I could make her feel better. You do, babies. When I’m feeling sad, you always seem to know it, and you comfort me.
Do they dream of the big hunt? Right now there’s the occasional bug to stalk, but I usually reach my limit watching that game after a time and kill the thing myself. They tend to let it go otherwise. Unless it’s a flying bug. Walter is adept at catching bugs in flight, and has no compunction eating his capture.
I want my kitties to be happy, so I worry sometimes at their pensive look. But then they’ll crawl into my lap and purr themselves to sleep while I sing their favorite songs. All is well.
We have each other.