Can We Please Have a Boring Week Now?

As far as my brood is concerned, it's bad enough that we wake them up early so that we can abandon them and go to work every day.  But do we have to throw earthquakes and hurricanes into the mix?  Of course, when Tuesday's quake hit, Di was home, and both of us were home during the hurricane, but that doesn't matter.  Both of them were obviously our fault and (in a properly run universe) would not have inconvenienced them so. 

Diane's description of the quake included the information that when they first heard the rumbling, all of them glared at her, then bushed out their tails and vanished to their favorite hiding places (mostly under beds, but Mittens prefers inside the love seat).  Finn came out a while later, but he heard the newscaster mention the possibility of aftershocks and went straight back under the daybed.  Mittens didn't come out of hiding until I got home four and a half hours later.  We think Wabble felt one of the aftershocks Tuesday night because he launched himself off the climber onto my stomach and into a nutsoid rampage around the bedroom in the middle of the night for no apparent reason.

Just when they'd all calmed down from the quake, the storm warnings started coming out and Diane was suddenly taking detours on the way home during the week to get our usual weekend shopping done so we wouldn't have to slog it in from the car in the rain on Saturday.  And she brought in extra batteries and bottled water (which we don't normally use).  None of our current group was with us for Isabelle, although Fred and Romana are both old enough to remember it, but it was clear that something else was about to disrupt their world.  In the event, we didn't lose power, and the storm didn't produce thunder or lightning or bring down any trees where we were, but the balcony was all disarranged as I took down the bird feeders and brought the plants in close to the wall where the brickwork would shield them just in case.  Not to mention the fact that our (and therefore the cats') weekend schedule was completely disrupted.  How's a cat supposed to get a proper nap, when he has to supervise our watching the storm coverage all day Saturday?

This morning, Puff stared at me in amazement when she realized I was actually going to swan off to work instead of staying home with her to help her get over the trauma she's been through.  She then went off to sulk for the rest of the morning.

In the past year, we've had a blizzard (Snowmageddon) that meant I wasn't home on time to feed them; a tornado going through the woods behind the building (and incidentally driving rain so far through the window in the middle of the night that Freddie got wet); an earthquake; and a hurricane.  What's next, a volcano?

We're all ready for a nice, normal, boring week now.

Here There Be Dragon(flie)s

I have finally seen a flying bug too formidable even for Wabble.  Weekday mornings when Diane goes off to work at 5:45, Wabble and Toogs go out into the hall to chase down any moths or other flying critters that get in through the outer doors.  This morning, we heard a tremendous buzzing as soon as we stepped into the hall.  It was an enormous dragonfly that had got in and was unable to find its way out.  It kept flying into the wall at the end of the hall.  Toogie went right back inside, but Wabble sat down to watch, trying to figure out what it was (still keeping his distance).  Diane and I decided we didn't want Wabble to take it on, as he has a tendency to eat his kills and we'd rather the dragonfly remain alive to eat the mosquitos we get every summer, so we chased it back out through the door.  By the time we were done, none of them had any taste for hunting this morning, so Diane went off to work and the rest of us went back inside.  It was a pity, though, since there were a number of nice big moths in the hall this morning, and Wabble is partial to moths.  Maybe they'll still be there tomorrow...

String Theory

What is it about cats and string?  The other night, one of our cats ate the string off a wand toy (at least I think it was eaten; the bits left attached to the stick and the feather were a lot shorter than the string had been, and we could find no sign of the rest of it).  I suspect Coco Puff because she had been chewing on it and I put it where I thought she wouldn't find it.  Fred would be another possible suspect since he has a history of eating strange things (and the worst he's ever gotten out of it was gas!), but he was outside with me, Finn, and his Auntie Di at the time we think it happened.  Nobody is showing any signs of distress, however, so I'm hoping it was digestible.  We are still watching for bits of red string to come out one end or the other.  As a precaution, we have put all the other feather-on-a-string toys in the hall closet, where the cats can't get at them.

Still, none of them had ever shown inclination to eat the string before.  Oh, sure, sometimes a cat will bite through the string in order to get the feather off and then strut about the house carrying her "prize", but they usually leave the string alone after that.  I have learned, though, that no ball of yarn is safe when Fred is around, so I keep my knitting firmly zipped up when I'm not working on it.  He's almost as creative with it as Tikan was.  Tikan was my first cat as an adult, and I still remember the first time Di left her crochet out overnight.  The next morning, the dining room looked like a macrame project.

Lesson learned, however.  Never leave string (or equivalent) out unattended, no matter how disinterested the cats may appear at the time.

Heat Wave

It has been Code Orange and too hot to breathe here in Northern Virginia for the past week or so.  I think it's been rougher on my boys, though, than me.  They like to go outside, but when it's this hot and the air quality is this poor, I don't like to take them out -- especially Finn with his respiratory problems.  It was relatively cool on Saturday morning, so I took Finn out in the front yard when Diane went to work, but he didn't stay out long; it was simply too hot for him.  Unfortunately, with the wonders of air conditioning, they don't believe me when I tell them how hot it is until I do something like open the balcony door to fill the bird feeder or water the plants.  They head for the balcony, but stop at the doorway and give me dirty looks as if to say, "what kind of trickery is this?"  But when one of us comes home from work, they all come to the door and try to get out into the hall.  In between, I can frequently find one or another of them sitting by the front door, looking up at me with big eyes and crying to get out.  Or I'll hear a funny noise at the door and see Wabble hanging off the door handle trying to get it open (see "Wabble Opens Doors").

Avoiding Mondays

Is it just me, or do everybody's cats hate Mondays?  Starting on Sunday night, my crew seems to go into full "Monday Avoidance" mode.  They seem to think that if they can stop me doing the things I need to do to get ready for the next day, they can stop it from coming, so they do their best to distract me from things like making sure the phone, PDA, and iPod are charged up, getting my shower, setting the alarm, and getting to sleep at a decent hour.  On Monday morning, they take turns settling in on top of my clothes so I can't get dressed and on my bed so I can't make it.  All the while, giving me those big-eyed "but you're supposed to stay home with me!" looks.  It's even worse after a long weekend or a vacation.  When I went back to work after being home for two weeks following foot surgery, every one of them made a point of giving me reproachful, "but we had an agreement" looks.  It would help if I could get them to understand the link between my going to work and their living in the style to which they've become accustomed (roof over their heads, clean litter, regular meals, that sort of thing).  Has anyone ever successfully explained this link to a cat?  I haven't.

Subtle Encroachment

I've noticed through observation that Mittens has a very sneaky way of getting other cats to vacate places she wants to be.  Where Puff or Romana will either complain to me or just go up and start swatting, Mittens simply goes over and claims just a little part (the edge of the Basket or a corner of a bed) then gradually stretches and moves over until she crowds the other cat out.  The other cat has a choice between accepting her company (and having her sprawl on top of him/her) or moving.  Even Finn is not immune.  She managed to crowd him off Di's bed last night.  With Fred, it depends on how determined he is.  The other night, she worked her way into the Basket with him, but he refused to budge.  Last night, she ended up pushing him off the bed as well.  Strangely, it rarely results in an actual fight.

Sibling Rivalry

On top of the tall dresser in the bedroom, we have a large basket with a pillow in it.  It started out life as a gift basket to the office from a vendor, and once all the goodies had been divvied up, I took the basket because it is the perfect size for a cat bed.  The cats think so, too.  There is an intense rivalry for the basket and the top level of the climber between Mittens, Puff, and Romana.  The other night, Puff was being greedy.  Having given Romana the shove from the top level of the climber, she settled in there quite nicely -- until Romana decided she wanted to go in the Basket.  Then Puff jumped up and ran over to get into the basket before Romana could.  I put Romana in the top level of the climber, and Puff ran over there to try and chase her out of that.  I intercepted Puff and explained that she could have either the climber or the basket, but that she couldn't keep both at the same time.  I don't think she understood or accepted that concept, so she decided instead to go settle in on Di's pillow and sulk.  Cats!  Gotta love' em!