Pieces of the Whole
We all need a little security. For children, it may be a blanket or a favorite stuffed toy. For Walter, it’s this scratching pole. It’s supposed to hang on a string over a doorknob, but the string broke off long ago. Now nobody scratches on it, but Walter hugs it close.
Image Credits: Cesar Cat © Belinda O; Paws In Heart © Bigstock
Inspired by friend Lois’ post of her beloved cat Teemu, here’s Walter, sound asleep in his most trusting pose. He’s resting in the chair he and his sister Mimi have claimed as their own. We don’t rule over cats, they rule over us!!
Image credit: Cesar cat © Belinda O, Paws in Heart © Bigstock.
Walter has gone undercover…but never fear, he will be back.
Image credit: Cesar cat © Belinda O, Paws in Heart © Bigstock.
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
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