We cats sleep by you, to keep the Gnomes from stealing your breath in the night
The last time we talked, I had just discovered my non-compliant tail. I had to run in circles a few times to get a hold of it, (how embarrassing - the humans were watching). But then, Tristan taught me the “?” tail, you know, the one we flick at you when we walk away, when angry or peeved.
Tweetie (QUEEN-OF-HEARTS - “Off with my head”) has all kinds of rules; places that are only TWEETIE’S and she MEANS HER’S. What a “hissy fit”. But, she still does so like to play with me. So, I’ll leave most of her places alone, at least for now. But when I’m bigger!!!
Did you know? That Tweetie only eats crunchy stuff. NO: butter, toast, jam, peanut butter, chicken gravy, blue cheese dressing, hot sauce (I don’t know if I like that or not - yet), soft cookie crumbs, potato chip dip, and even canned fancy cat food, and OoOoOoo tuna juice. She just misses out on so many good things. More for me I say. The vet said I’ll eat anything and it was because I was an abandoned sewer cat (now really ---- how undignified)
I discovered the cat in the mirror this week. What a bother - doesn’t make a noise, but gets its back up at me, but then won’t come out to settle up. I still check her out from time to time. I even did the arched back-puffy tail-sideways walk while hissing. What a bother!! She even looks out at me from the glass fireplace screen. Silent ninny!!!
I sleep with KEYs, I’ve got to be touching her skin, the neck or inside of her arm are best, << that is >> after the heat pad on her lower back. It is hard to get too warm. Oh goodness how I puurrrr on the heat pad.
[YOU do know >> “that we cats sleep by you, to keep the Gnomes from stealing your breath in the night” Right??” (You don’t? Well you just go ask John Dobbin) He’ll tell ya! [So you know: John is an observant writer who lives in Winnipeg, Canada. John writes all about Winnipeg and blogs all kinds of interesting things]
However, nap time, is wherever I’m at; potted plants in the sun, or where KEYs sits (I don’t give up the space) - she will pick me up and put me in her lap “a little proper adoration on her part goes a long way”, on the couch, way, way under the bed, Tweetie’s best box (oh oh) or even on Ham’s day bed pillow in the sun (Tigger country).
Now, Tristan sleeps wherever he wants. He will curl around me or Tweetie. But then he is TOP CAT and tolerates no back talk or kitty attitude beyond a CERTAIN point. I just love to push the envelope. “hehehee”. But he will and does tolerate my butt bites and head jumps. Baps me on the head when I overstep my place.
KEYs covered all my favorite scratching places this week and “sprayed” me with water for still trying to get at them. “DO YOU BELIEVE THAT” I showed her the “?” tail for that. “Thank you Tristan”
Tigger is still not moving too well and still has tummy issues. So, he is cranky this week, but he does so loves my kitty soft food. He will move over if I want some. He’s a good guy … Older then sin though, great tail to pounce on.
KEYs keeps giving me (as I deserve) new stuff to play with. I really like the fur mice. Now there are two (2) types of play “mousseees”; mine and Tweetie’s. I better not play with “MOUSIE”, they are Tweetie’s. She scents them and drops ‘em in the water bowl and everything. Tweetie even cries when “MOUSIE” goes missing. Not that I have ever flicked it under the ottoman … Not moi. “Heheheheeee”
Did you know that it is fun to climb screens and poke holes in them? Such words from a usual dignified KEYs. “Hey … I didn’t put the fly there.”
Tweetie can catch ”them flies” in the air and eats ‘em before she gets to the floor - YUK!!!! Impressive but YUKKK.
I bit through Ham’s phone charger cord today. That was a shocking experience and I’ll refrain from that in the future. He said, “&^%$#@)(*”?@/ and ></;)['?\”.., Such army language. And as the author Charlotte Gray knows > “I will remember every single one of them!” [Did you know that Charlotte is a great Canadian historian and published writer, who lives in Ottawa, Canada?]
Say, before I go, did you know I have three names: (1) “Stormy”, (2) KEYs calls me “Tumbleweed” and (3) Ham calls me “Short-stuff” <“how degrading”>. So, I guess T.S. Eliot is right. He said, we cats all do have three names. (He was an English author who wrote “Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats” and many other remarkable things)
TA TA for now; Tristan is eating dill again and I just have to check out why. Betcha didn’t know that Tristan even stands on his back legs and taps or claws Ham’s belt to remind him it is now “dill-time” and no seeds or flowers, please!!!.
Be talking to you again soon
PS. I tasted that Tristan’s stuff, Catnip maybe but not dill.
(Like the Cheshire Cat says,” we’re all mad here”) But I’m mew, so I am excluded from that.