My last few cat posts have featured Walter, which is easy to do since he’s so much more expressive than Mimi. Today, however, I caught my little bean looking a little anxious, a little inquisitive, with a little, “say what?” expression on her sweet face. So I’m sharing Mimi with you, which is a good thing, seeing as how she’s such a love.
Months ago I wrote about my storage room and how I desperately wanted to clean it out. Well, slowly but surely that’s happening. It’s a little bit disconcerting to Walter and Mimi, who constantly have to look for new hiding places, but I feel good about it. Not that the room looks clean yet. It’s just that now a lot of the boxes are empty and only need to be broken down.
Anyway, I donated four boxes of books to the Friendly Bookstore, which supports our local library, and now I have several boxes ready for Helping Hands, a thrift store that helps people in need. I hauled two of those boxes out to the living room, right next to the front door. The theory was I’d next carry them down to my car. Problem is, I kept finding more stuff to add, so the bottom box has gotten too heavy to carry downstairs. With my back, I have to be really careful.
It looks like I’ll be handling this the way I handled the books. Take an empty box to the car and then carry everything to that box. I need a break, and apparently Walter does too. I had to put the quilt on top or both cats would be exploring–and making a mess of things. The quilt stays, by the way.
So it’s Caturday and cleaning day all rolled into one.
When I was in high school, we had a beautiful long-haired black cat named Salem. My mom still mourns for her.
In my area, shelters won’t let anyone adopt a black cat in October, for fear of what may happen on Halloween. Or after, when party people may just abandon the precious kitties.
If you have a black cat, I consider you very lucky!!
Image Credit: ©worldofvector–stock.adobe.com
Many of you have already seen this, but in honor of International Cat Day, I’m re-blogging one of my earlier posts about how Walter, Mimi and I became a family. Kiss your cats and give them a treat! (You’ll have to excuse the captions. They ended up anywhere but under the photos.)
I didn’t have a job. I owed the Cat Clinic hundreds of dollars for the care of the late great Paco. It would have been irresponsible to get a new cat. So when the pitiful cries of two little ones are heard outside my apartment window, I steel myself and say, I can’t save all the kitties.
In that neighborhood, at that apartment complex, people were abandoning cats all the time. It was one of the hardest parts of living there, and that wasn’t an easy place to live. It was devastating not to be able to help all the poor kitties who sat outside my window, crying. Fortunately, one of the other residents worked at a no-kill shelter, and she was usually able to find them a home.
The late great Paco.
I had only the screen open, so I closed the window completely. The crying fades…
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My precious cat Mimi has wanderlust. She’s an indoor cat who longs to run outside, but I won’t let her. It’s way too dangerous for her out there. I know that, but she doesn’t share my concern and dashes out the door at any given opportunity.
How do you explain to a cat with the natural desire to explore that you’re keeping her inside for her own good? That it’s your love for her that prevents you from letting her run free?
Mimi is a lover and a snuggler. I want to protect her.
Walter, on the other hand, would have to be pushed out the door before he’d go outside. He much prefers the dangers of the great indoors, such as the washing machine and dryer. It’s gotten to a point where I need to lock him in another room when I do the wash because he will leap into the washer and resist all efforts on my part to get him out.
That’s a much easier problem to deal with.
Walter, too, is a lover and a snuggler, and the three of us frequently end up curled together on the sofa while I watch TV and they sleep.
Protecting those we love is a natural instinct, even if our methods of doing so may seem a bit out of place to others. But as long as I’m their mama, Walter and Mimi will just have to put up with being protected. Can’t help myself.
Image Credits: Cat with Heart and Cat on Top of Washing Machine © geosap–stock.adobe.com
Walter has gone undercover…but never fear, he will be back.
Image credit: Cesar cat © Belinda O, Paws in Heart © Bigstock.
Today is Walter and Mimi’s eighth birthday! We’re honoring the occasion with a little treat, a lot of snuggling and a sprinkling of catnip. Nothing like the love of cats to make everyday worth celebrating. And no, despite appearances, you can’t order a kitty from Amazon. At least, not as far as I know!!
Any cat lover (and I know several of you follow my blog) will appreciate the story of Ollie and Lena. Thanks to Amy for sharing. Click on “view original post” to see the video.
A few years ago a co-worker told me about some research she’d read stating that, if we own cats, our lives are controlled by these feline friends. I laughed at the time but now I’m thinking that study may have been correct.
What’s the first thing I do in the morning? Feed the cats.
Where do I sit? Anywhere the cats are not.
Have I ever changed the channel on the TV to pacify my cats? Of course. If one of them seems agitated by what they’re hearing or seeing on the screen, click goes the remote. Well, sometimes I just mute it for a time.
If both cats are showing me a lot of attention, I’m fairly certain that in their furry little minds it’s time for dinner. Even if it’s only 3:00 in the afternoon.
My world is better with my cats, so I don’t mind their control. I do, however, sometimes get annoyed with others controlling my life. For example, my local grocery store chose to stop stocking my favorite juice. I know the manager there so I asked him why, and he didn’t have an answer. They sold plenty of it. Perhaps it was a supply issue, he suggested.
At my job I had to work a series of pretty crummy shifts because of a co-worker who took a whopping eight weeks off for her daughter’s wedding. As you might imagine, this woman is pretty controlling in a number of ways–how many brides would allow their mother that much oversight?
Management approved this time off and couldn’t hire anyone to replace her or they would have been overstaffed when she came back. Not that they should be worrying about that. She’s asked for another three weeks off in the short time since she’s returned.
I don’t know who I’m more critical of in that case, my co-worker or management.
Of course as I gripe about this I wonder if there are areas in which I’m taking advantage of anyone else. I don’t think I am–I’m pretty sensitive to that sort of thing–but you never know who might be muttering under their breath about you.
Anyway, the bottom line is, none of us has complete control of our lives.
I just wish the cats would give me my chair back.
Things are turning around.
In the past few months, I’ve posted about my problems finding a job as well as the stress of having two cats who (suddenly) don’t get along. The latter was due to what’s known as “displaced aggression.” One of my cats, Mimi, saw something that upset her, and she took it out on her brother, Walter.
Well, I’m thrilled to say that’s changed. While Mimi still might growl a little if Walter gets too close, they’re almost back to their old selves. I can’t begin to express what a relief this is. For the past few months, any reminder of my cats brought about feelings of guilt and frustration. I had to separate them, and to do that, one was locked in a bedroom while the other had the run of the place. Then I’d switch.
As you can imagine, that gets a little tricky when you’ve got obligations outside the home. There were times when one of them had to be locked up for eight hours, and that killed me.
Now I even can leave my bedroom door open at night without fear there will be fighting. They’ve worked this out between themselves. Mimi stays with me and Walter goes to the living room. As much as I’d like to have Walter snuggle up to me at night, if that works for them, I’m not interfering.
On the job front, again, good news. I’ve got a freelance writing gig that looks like it will continue for several, perhaps even many, months. Like any new job I’m learning my way, but I believe I’ll be able to do it and do it well.
Thanks to all of you for the encouraging words. For so long it seemed like nothing was going to change, and even though I know that’s not the way life works, it was difficult pushing through it at times.
I’d like to get back to my blogging again, so I hope to see more of all of you soon!
Image credit: (c) geosap — stock.adobe.com
Some time ago I wrote about my precious cat Mimi, who’s experiencing a case of displaced aggression. That’s when one thing upsets a cat (in this case, a stranger cat peeking in through the front window) and she takes it out on another (her brother Walter). I’ve had to separate the two for six months now.
I tried last week to reunite them, and only succeeded in upsetting Mimi to the point she won’t leave my bedroom anymore. She’s cautiously approaching the door, but nothing more. I should add that Walter is placed in another room when I try to lure Mimi out, so she’s safe. But she isn’t so sure.
On Friday I was convinced I was going to need to find a new home for one of them. I was devastated and the grieving process began. I cried and cried — sobbed, really — and in the end realized I wasn’t ready to make that move. Saturday I spent all day knowing that, ready or not, it was inevitable, but Sunday I came up with a plan that will give each cat enough space to run around in while keeping them away from each other. It’s not ideal, but it’s fair.
Is this situation likely to resolve itself? Everything I’ve read says it’s a challenge and can take up to a year. Sometimes it never happens. I may have restarted that calendar by trying to reintroduce them too soon, I don’t know.
It’s painful all around. I don’t have any wise words to summarize my thoughts here. Just thanks for listening.
Marceline awaits Easter.
For the last three weeks, I have fruitlessly tried to reconcile my warring cats.
I believe it started when Mimi looked out the front window and saw another animal: maybe a cat, maybe a raccoon, but mostly likely a dog. My street is a dog-walking thoroughfare.
She turned on Walter, and the fighting began. Redirected aggression, they call it. Let me say this before I go any further, because I know what suggestion is coming: you cannot let cats “fight it out.” That method will only escalate the problem.
It’s been twenty days of playing musical cats. Mimi gets my bedroom, Walter gets the spare room. Sometimes we switch rooms. One or the other is always out, but poor Mimi is stuck in my bedroom all day when I work.
She’s taken to it pretty well, but everyone once in awhile she bolts when I open the door. Well, not so much now. A friend loaned me a baby/pet gate, and that’s firmly guarding the entrance. Usually she’s sitting behind the door when I open it. It’s her safe place. That spot used to be the back corner, behind a chair and the closet door. At least she’s come to the front.
If this goes on much longer, I’ll have to block off the downstairs so she can reign there, while Walter stays upstairs. He wouldn’t like that all, and is likely to sit by whatever blockade I’ve set up, and cry.
I was the one crying out the other day when (pre-baby gate) Walter shot into Mimi’s (a.k.a. my) room. I dove to catch him and hit my eye smack dab on the door knob. That hurt. I was, however, successful in keeping Walter out of the room.
So I went to work the next day with a black eye and absolutely no way to explain it to the majority of my 140 co-workers. “I hit my eye on a door knob”? “It was my cat’s fault”? “No, really, I’m okay.” I got several knowing looks from women who’ve barely met me.
This war must end, and I believe we are making progress. I know exactly when it will be over. The day I shell out every penny I have to separate downstairs from upstairs.
Photo credit: © Stefano Garau — stock.adobe.com
Today we celebrate my mom’s cat Milton, a sweetheart with a difficult past who found his permanent place of residence a few years ago. Now he’s King of the Castle, reigning with benevolence and charm.
Image Credits–Header: (Cesar Cat) © Belinda Ostrowski; (Paws and Heart) © Bigstockphoto.com