The key to winning over a cat is to pay the cat tax. Whenever I enter a room with a cat in it, whether it’s coming out of the shower, coming home from work, or just walking around the apartment, I’ll give the cat a little scratch. It lets them know that their presence is recognized, and that they’re never ignored, not even once. It’s a small price to pay to have a cat who’s friendly and trusting.
Posts tagged with "cats"
A Cat's Internal Schedule
In the mornings, Dolly will wake up from my alarm. When it rings, whether she’s on my legs, on her pillow, on my neck, or against the wall, she’ll walk to the foot of the bed and stare at the door. At night, she’s usually in my room by the time I go to bed. I think she’s finally been able to adapt to my schedule because it’s the first time I’ve been able to consistently go to bed and wake up for more two months.
A Weekend House-Sitting
Spent the weekend house sitting for my boss (on a trip to watch his daughter perform in New York) with Trolley, Nick, and two Eric’s. We spent most of the weekend hanging out, playing some Gamecube, watching movies on the 100″ projection screen, and making runs to Timmy Ho’s.
My boss and his family has three dogs, two cats, a few turtles, and some guinea pigs. One of the dogs, named Spike, is a tiny terrier but is like a little lightning bolt. He’s still a pup, but won’t be getting any bigger than he already is.
The two cats, Boots and Puffy, are well behaved and friendly.
I got the chance to hang out with Eric, the one who’s not Trolley’s brother. He can appreciate a glass of Appleton Estate as much as a copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, as much as a well designed computer game. And I mean really appreciate, as a person who almost completely understands what he likes, instead of the superficial tastes that so many have nowadays. I can light up with him, talk to him on an unbelievable number of levels, play games with him, or just hang out. He rarely speaks, but when he does his speech has weight, it has meaning with so much insight. I hope to hang out with him some more if he doesn’t go back home to Toronto. There should be more Eric’s in the world.
She's An Indoor Cat
I took Dolly for a walk today, and brought her over to Tom’s apartment. She started freaking out as soon as we got outside. I set her down and she would have bolted if it wasn’t for the leash. She was alright when we got to Tom’s place, and she set herself in a steady pounce position in front of his birdcage. When I got back, I set her down outside the apartment door to unlock it, and as soon as the door was open she rushed back in again. I guess she’s really comfortable and secure in her little controlled area. I really wish I knew how she reacted the first time she was let out, but I probably won’t be trying it again anytime soon. That means that I’ll probably end up not even bothering with the microchip operation.
First Weekend In Boulter
Spent the weekend at Trolley’s house with Wheaties, Aaron, and Nick. The car ride took about three hours, squeezed into the back of his compact Jetta. I would have called shotgun but I doubt anyone would have respected it; Nick and Aaron had priority as the biggest guys. I made a playlist for the ride there, and it was good for the first half. The problem with such playlists is that they’re usually meant for summer in the open air, not night time winter rides. A lot of songs end up being inappropriate.
Trolley’s place is a 350 acre farm, on a long road that’s actually named after his family. Definitely a place with personality and an amazing view of the open countryside. Heat is turned up by throwing more logs in the furnace. His cat Femo is more vocal than Dolly and always cries for attention. She’ll quickly turn belly up if you scratch her the right way, and doesn’t like to wander more than an arms-length away.
The first party was at the cabin, which is a small hunting lodge a 10 minute walk away, also owned by the Trolley’s. That’s when I remembered that I’m really bad at parties with lots of drunk people. Drunk people who I don’t know scare me. A lot. I never know what the hell they’re going to do. At one point, two people put on boxing gloves and started beating the shit out of each other in this tiny cabin, which must be about 196 square feet. The second party was at the house, and much lower key. People started jumping into the hot tub and out the window then rolling around in the snow. I didn’t drink the first day (aside from a swig from a bottle of Fireball, which actually isn’t bad), but ended up buying some alcohol for the next.
One of the days was spent on a hill on some private property. We set up a jump to do some freestyle board riding, and broke out the modified GT Snowracers and toboggans.
A great time.