With Age Comes…

Sachiko is no longer the twenty-four hour nuclear-propelled hellion she was when she was a kitten.

She’ll be the first to tell you that she’s a big kitty now. And she is–goodness, I just realized she’s approaching her fifth birthday!

Not a huge kitteh, but a bit on the plump side, and a significant armload.

With increasing age comes an increased desire to snooze.

Of course, as a cat, she’s required to pick a spot that will inconvenience the bipeds.

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The bathroom doorway is a fine choice. Convenient to the litter box, handy to the food bowls come dinner time, and a high traffic area for the hoomins.

Pillowed

Watanuki has some strange ideas about the proper role of a pillow.

Actually, he has a lot of strange ideas. But a detailed discussion of them all would take us far beyond the space allotted to today’s post, so we’ll stick with pillows.

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Most people put their head on a pillow. Not Mr. Knuckles.

I’d think he was trying to keep his butt warm, but the temperature was in the nineties the day that picture was taken. Cold buns (not that he really has buns–but I digress) were not the issue.

Meanwhile, Yuki took the usurpation of his favorite head-and-tail-rest in stride.

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He often finds Maggie’s pillow to be an acceptable alternate Rhubarb. Though it has to be said that I’ve never seen him twist his hindquarters into that position with any other pillow.

Meanwhile, I found the funniest part of the episode to be the way Sachiko completely ignored the boys’ antics.

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Reputation

‘Nuki has a tough life. It’s his own fault, though.

He spends all his time working on his rep. “Mr. Murder Mittens.” “Knuckles Malloy, Notorious Mobster Feline.” Those are names with capital-P Power. Oompj. Even “Mr. Thugbutt,” for all its superficial silliness, has a touch of that menacing edge.

It’s exhausting to keep it up, all day, every day.

You gotta give the guy props, though. He’s in there doing the work and reaping the rewards.

24/7/365.

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Okay, okay. He slips occasionally.

But notice that right front paw. Even at his inadvertent cutest, ‘Nuki still stays on message. There may only be one claw exposed, but it’s a darn sharp one.

Then there’s his little sister, Sachiko.

She’s got a rep of her own, and she’s far less prone to slip than Big Brudder Nookles. And that’s a Really Good Thing, because she’s the current holder of the “Ms. Otter Girl” title. Has been for more than four years now.

That’s “otter” as in “always going where she otter not be.”

Case in point.

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She’s also been known to climb over the fence you see behind her. It would be beneath her dignity to simply go down a couple of steps and come back on the other side of the fence. Such sedentary behavior might be appropriate for old fogies like her siblings, but not for a young lady with athletic inclinations.

She wishes it known that, should she decide to go to Stanford, she will earn her scholarship. No need to bribe her way onto the rock climbing team.

How to Handle Change

Some people never change.

Take MM, for example.
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This is not a cat who’s happy to see me. Even though I’d just filled her food bowl, exactly as Maggie and I have done for the past seven months or so. Cleaning the litter box is often performed with a soundtrack of hisses.

She’s mellowed enough to take cover in one of the shelters when it’s particularly wet or cold, but that’s not much a shift.

Then there are those who try something new, give it up, and come back to it.
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After an extended period of terrestrialism–completely voluntary, I assure you–Sachiko has resumed her acrobatic ways.

It’s probably a misperception, but I tend to believe she’s spending more time balanced on one of the banisters than on the ground.

We’re hoping it’s a phase. Not that we begrudge her indulgence of her aerialist tendencies, but the truth is, she’s not as svelte as she was the last time around, and we’re concerned about the ramifications of a misstep.

And then there are those who revel in change.
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After something of a slow start, Lefty seems to be turning into quite the fan of indoor living. He adjusted to a mixed gooshy/krunchie diet rather quickly and picked up the art of the litter box faster than MM. After that, though, progress was slow for several months.

But ever since we let him out of the cage, he’s been enthusiastically trying out new things. As in the picture above, he’s finding great joy in nesting in the blankets on the futon. Curiously, however, he’s still not at all interested in having a cushion in any of his caves–we often find one or another condo pillow in the middle of the floor. (Not yet available: video of Lefty and Rufus sharing the futon and exchanging ear-washings. Hopefully I can pull it off the camera in time for next week’s post.)

And, speaking of the middle of the floor, the other thing we often find there is Lefty himself. Sometimes by himself, keeping a watchful eye (sorry) on the activity outside the room, but more often in company with his buddy Rufus.
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Merry You-Know-What

The tree is up, the heat is on, and the cats are gathering.

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Yup, must be Christmas time.

No matter where you fall on the scale* between “Christmas? What’s that?” and “Woo-hoo! Best day of the year! More celebration!” I hope you’ll have a good day, secure in the knowledge that 2018 is nearly over.

* I’m aware there’s at least one more dimension to the scale–the religious one. But (a) representing a three-dimensional graph in words is grammatically incomprehensible and (b) If two thousand years of scholarship hasn’t come up with glib captions everyone can agree adequately summarize the religious extremes, I’m not fool enough to try.

Stay warm, stay dry, and stay safe.

Irresistible

I know I’ve posted pictures of various cats under the covers before. But really, how could one ever get tired of the genre?
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Just look at Sachiko’s expression of grim determination not to be bothered. At her whiskers carelessly curled under her chin. The handsome tail lovingly curled and pointing to the pink toe beans.

Irresistible!

Winter Is Coming

And no, I’m not talking George R.R. Martin.

We are seeing the first signs of winter’s approach. Specifically, cats hogging the heat registers.
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Rhubarb’s been doing it for years. He’s got the technique down: block the entire vent so no heat escapes his fur.

Since the overnight temperatures dropped to a glacial 55 degrees or so, he’s been at one vent or another most mornings. Never mind that it’s a good ten degrees warmer inside. Everyone knows it’s the psychological effect of the cold outdoors that does it.

Sachiko doesn’t quite have the details sorted.
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Maybe it’s because she’s younger and hasn’t worked out all of the ramifications.

Or perhaps she just doesn’t feel the cold in her bones as much as her older brother.

But regardless, she knows her extremities get colder than her torso, and she’s figured out what to do to avoid a frostbitten tail.
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Anyone want some nicely toasted caudal vertebrae? Just the thing for breakfast on a pre-winter morning. Sachiko thinks so. Or maybe she’s just grooming. I don’t think her tail is any shorter today than yesterday.

Chomp

Maggie recently brought home a new feline torture device. Sort of the equivalent of a hair shirt. And if you don’t think a hair shirt over fur is a torture device, well, our crew invite you to give it a try.

Anyway, given Sachiko’s sometimes sharkly behavior…

…we decided she was the logical first victim.

She carried it off very well:

Very “searching for something to rend to bloody bits”.

Somehow, though, she seemed less than appreciative of the opportunity.

In fact, that was almost two weeks ago, and she’s still giving us suspicious looks when we come into the kitchen together.

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The Most Happening Spot…

Fashions in feline hangouts come and go, just as with any other sort of fad. But some places are evergreen.

Everyone finds the bed convenient lurking territory, as Sachiko demonstrates.
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It’s also the most popular spot for sleeping, whether alone…
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(Yes, that is Sachiko. She has grown considerably, but this shot wasn’t taken from the most slimming of angles.)

…or in company.
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Watanuki likes the bed, too. In addition to lurking and sleeping, it’s a perfect platform for…uh…

Dancing. Yeah, dancing. Let’s go with that.

HBM

Hard to believe Sachiko is four years old (more or less–we don’t really know when she was born).

But she can be quite the elegant lady when she wants to.
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Such a serious, sober expression she has, don’t you think?

It’s all a sham, though.

Just wait a few seconds and she’ll revert to the behavior that led us to nickname her “Her Batshit Majesty, Princess Pointy-Bits”.

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Isn’t it nice to know some people never change?