Tag: cats

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Chilling with Izzie

Today is a bonafide gorgeous day.  I am feeling just a bit under the weather; trying to get the better of a cold that is trying to get the better of me.  My workout this morning with Lorenzo was tough, but not as much of a struggle as it was to just get up and get going out the door.

When I got home from the gym, Izzie was waiting for me at the door.  Sounds cute, except she wasn’t waiting at the door I was entering – she was by the back door waiting to go out.  Lately she’s shown signs that her fur is being rubbed the wrong way by having Purrl around.  I think she was under the impression that the kitten was merely visiting and in Izzie’s mind has long outstayed her welcome.  I decided to go out with Izzie and spend a little quality time with her.  As I headed out on the lawn behind her, she turned and flopped down on the grass in front of me.  I sat next to her and began to pet her.  Soon I was totally sprawled on the grass, just like Izzie, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the view of the sky.

I was a little concerned that one of my neighbors might catch a glimpse of me and worry that I’d taken a fall or just plain croaked in my yard, but not enough to jump up.  I made sure I moved occasionally, just enough to let an on-looker know that I was on the ground by choice.  I wish I’d had my camera, to take some shots of the yard from Izzie’s perspective.  Together we watched some leaves fall and a tufted titmouse land on the feeder.  Then Izzie spotted something in the distance and was off to the woods.

I decided I’d better get up before the paramedics arrived.  Next time, I will grab the camera when I go out.  It’s an experience too good not to share.

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Adventures in a Cat-A-Tonic State

Well, it’s been one week since the addition of a kitten into our household and for the most part, the adjustment period is going well.  Like any other home where there is a young one present, our family room carpet is littered with a variety of toys and household items that have been found to be amusing.  Much of our daily routine revolves around the little one, answering its cries, feeding, cleaning and comforting as required.  Unlike the addition of a new little human or canine baby however, there are no late night events to interrupt my sleep.  This is a good thing

Our first order of business in our early days with our baby was to find the perfect name.  The papers we received from the SPCA referred to our baby as “Sterling”; a three month old male kitten.    We weren’t crazy about the name, a little pretentious in our opinion.  I also was beginning to have my doubts that we indeed had a male kitten.  Aside from the total lack of evidence of any male paraphernalia, there was an incision scar on the tummy.  Our first visit to our new vet at the Ruckersville Animal Hospital, confirmed my suspicions and our kitten was declared a very healthy female kitten.  I’ve heard people say that kittens are difficult to sex, but honestly, you’d think they would have noticed when they spayed her and corrected their mistake.  Not that gender really makes any difference to me, she’d be just as cute as a he.

After much deliberation, we decided on the name “Pearl” which I soon modified the spelling to “Purrl” – a triple entendre referencing her color, her wonderful “motor” skills and my love for knitting.  I believe Purrl is destined to become a knitting enthusiast as well, trying her hand at assisting me with a pair of socks I was working on last night.

So far Izzie is accepting Purrl with great kindness.  I was so concerned that she’d been an only cat so long that she wasn’t going to be happy sharing the love.  After all, Izzie is the Queen and Dave and I her subjects.  But, the other night as Izzie sat perched on the back of the couch, Purrl approached her, wailing her baby cry.  Izzie extended her front paw and laid it across Purrl’s shoulders and began to lick her head and face.  It was a such a sweet moment.

I don’t know why I need these fur balls in my home, but I do.  They fill my house with activity and sometimes even mayhem and most of all love.  Izzie may not want to be with me all day, but she had set times when my presence is required – and it’s not only at meal time.  Lately, she’s made it known that she would like me to come take naps with her on my bed.  The funny thing is that I’ve been trying to get her to curl up with me on the couch forever (in her life terms).   The compromise is acceptable.

Since our move here, Izzie has been spending most of her daytime hours in the back yard.  She becoming quite a hunter.  At first her prey were the house finches at the feeder which was not a happy things as far as I’m concerned but the other day she caught a mole and brought it up to the house to present it to us.  She was ever so proud, and rightly so.

I know that there are a great many dog people who believe that their relationship has taught them much about God due to the characteristic traits we’ve bred into those animals since the first tame wolf came closer to a fire for some warmth or a scrap of meat.  Dogs are known for their loyalty, obedience and most of all, unconditional affection.  Cats, however provide insight into relationship with God that dogs, by their nature, just can’t.

Did you ever hear the expression “It was like herding cats”?  Cats provide a good workable image of free will.  You can not make a cat obey you, the cat must choose to do so.  Furthermore, in choosing to do what you want, the cat has decided there is something in it for her.  How human is that?

I’m not trash talking dogs.  I love dogs.  I’m just saying that a cats can provide a glimpse of what is must be like to be God.   This first week with Purrl has given me a little more insight in just how frustrated and disappointed God must get sometimes.  Like God, my intentions are all good.  All I want to do is insure that Purrl eats properly and is safe at all times.  In return, it seems like not too much to ask for her to at least acknowledge that all the blessings of sustenance and entertainment flow from me.  What do I want in return?  Just a little love – is that so wrong?

Maybe instead I’ll try to be more God like and patiently wait for Purrl to come to me. In the meantime, I might try curling up on my heavenly father’s lap for a while.  I think he’d like that.

 

 

 

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Cattitude

Cats are weird creatures.  It is a fact that just can’t be disputed.  Izzie, our three year old calico is no exception.  Since moving here, she has made it clear that she approves of her change of abode and is thoroughly enjoying the new adventures as she explores the new sights and sounds both indoors and out.

Instead of a small, flat suburban yard surrounded by a stockade fence, Izzie now has free range of a quarter of an acre of gently rising back yard and woods.   There are birds to stalk, squirrels to harass and moths to pounce on.   The only downside to her outdoor experience is that I am unwilling to allow her our unescorted.  And, like all “teens”  she resents restrictions and expresses her contempt by insinuating herself in my activities, in case I may not have noticed her desires.  Usually this involves a walk on the counter, assisting me with my jig saw puzzle on the dining room table or in extreme instances, scratching the family room furniture.  Despite the cajoling, she carries on non-plussed as if to say, “whatever!”

A couple of days after we moved in I decided to give the jetted tub a cleaning after my first soak resulted in clumps of black gunk rising from the jets.  I filled the tub, added some Clorox, ran the jets and then let it soak for a few minutes.   When I returned to the bathroom, I noticed a large wet spot in front of the door.  Worried I might have a leak, I scanned the area and found Izzie on the floor at the end of my bed licking off her very wet legs.  Mystery solved, I gathered her up in a towel and took her down to the kitchen sink to hose her off.  She tolerated the re-bath pretty well can then allowed me to towel her off a bit before jumping down to retreat to some secret place to lick her fur and soothe her wounded pride.

For all her demands and tantrums, Izzie is good company.  My heart melts every time I hear her calling for me from another room, waiting for my answer.  I tell her where I am and soon she trots in, meows, rubs my ankles and then moves on.  Despite her lust for independence, she still needs to know I’m here for her.

She’s just like a kid, or for that matter me.  Maybe cats aren’t so weird afterall….