My Misunderstood Life as a Cat

 

I’m often misunderstood, but mommy gets me so much better than most.  She rescued me as a dying young cat and nursed me back to health with a great deal of difficulty.  I love her for that, but she has been a little bit slow in understanding me throughout the years.

When I outgrew my bathroom space while still in recovery, she couldn’t understand my attacks when she caught me escaping and corralled me back into that unholy little space.  It took a veterinarian visit for her to be told I was longing for a larger space.  Moving into her studio was like living in paradise, that paradise that is now occupied by chicken tabby Charlotte.

 

I had only longed for power in this household until the almighty head cat Jesse passed into neverland, and left the space open.  I assumed I would always be head cat after his demise until Zoe became old and flipped from being meek to slowly encroaching into my territory and taking over before I knew what happened.  That little traitor.  She may have taken over mommy’s bed, but I still had mommy’s lap.

 

After Zoe was no more, it was all mine, or so I thought.  That scaredy-cat Austin tried to become buddies with me, causing me to get a lot of exercise escaping his space.  He didn’t care, he just kept getting into my space to lay practically on top of me during nap time.  Mommy thought “how cute, he just wants to be friends”.

What a bunch of crap.  Now he’s head cat and I just let it happen because, well…quite frankly, he’s built like a tank and I would suffer rather miserably in a skirmish.  So…here I am once again being misunderstood as chicken tabby Charlotte behaves so much like a chicken.  I can’t help but run after her and attack when she flees.  It’s just in my nature to hunt down prey.

Mommy is so frustrated with the situation, but she gets it.  If chicken tabby Charlotte stood her ground none of this would be happening.  It gets so weary putting up with mommy’s crazy remedies to bond us two cats as friends.  It will never happen, mommy!!!  If I understood her correctly, flower remedies and super pheromones are next on the list.  When will she ever accept that her beloved studio will always be a gated community of her and her little chicken tabby?

I am not happy with the current hierarchy, but it is what it is.  Giant ‘who cares’ Austin has taken over mommy’s bed, but I sneak in when he’s not around.  When he is around, I hightail it to the bedroom cat tree with disdain.  Charlotte is out at dinner time because, well...dinnertime for me is more important than that cat, but otherwise behind the bars of her gated community.  I would say she is bottom of the pecking order, although I fear I would be bottom if she stood her ground, as she has a strong bond with that giant oaf of a cat Austin.

As for the dog…we all own him, even though mommy thinks it is she.

And as for playtime, I have a lot of fun ignoring my food until mommy puts it up, than wanting it again and she puts it back out.  I’m beginning to eat a dozen times a day…the best playtime ever.  Next best thing is Charlotte hunting.

I’m

Really

*

Really

*

Really

*

Not a bad cat

>^..^<

Really. 

Yum Yummy and his tracks to the bird feeder

The day before yesterday, mommy left the front door open,

and I watched the delectable birdie parade

 in comfort behind the glass storm door.

Mommy was happy that only an inch of snow fell, 

but also sad that only an inch of snow fell.

What the...!?!

Yum Yummy's tracks - Messing with the bird bath.

Yesterday heavy rains, then a night in the twenties, 

then a sifting of snow on top of the ice,

then,

well...

Mommy says days when the temperatures stays in the twenties,

are nice for hot chocolate and reading.

She said this after dumping several quarts of sunflower hearts

 on the porch railings, ground, and bird feeder this afternoon,

 with some choice words about #%&*!! freaking cold added for good measure.

As for the dog, he enjoys a stroll to the poop patch on his own.

He's a small thing and his center of gravity

seems only a notch up from ground level.

He just sails across the ice with the greatest of ease, hehe.

This post is linked to:

Saturday's Critters

My Corner of the World