Good Morning

We all have our crosses to bear.

Mine is that I’m decidedly not a morning person. Doesn’t matter how much sleep I get, I just don’t function at peak capacity until afternoon (and aftercaffeination).

So you might think that I’m distinctly unfond of opening my eyes to see, well, this:

After all, for most cats this would be the “It’s morning and I want my breakfast” greeting.

Lefty is not most cats.

This is his “Don’t get up. Take five more minutes* to give me snuggles before you crawl out of bed—and feel free to keep your eyes closed if it makes the day easier” greeting.

* Or five more hours. Whatever works for you.

Thank all the greater and lesser gods and goddesses for our SnugglePanther.

A Life Lesson

Kokoro may be a lady of a certain age, but that doesn’t mean she’s lost her sense of fun.

She’s not about to let Kaja hog the toys when there’s a chance to play with her hoomins.

A certain, carefully measured, application of the “I’m still the boss of you” stare, and the toy was hers.

Of course, being the intelligent lady she is, and possessing the wisdom that comes of applying that intellect over the course of her life, Kokoro knows that victory, however tasty…

…never lasts. Sometimes you catch the toy, true. But it’s equally true that the toy sometimes catches you.

(She’s got that look of martyred patience down, doesn’t she?)

And those rumors that Kaja, lacking said wisdom, had a not-so-quiet chuckle?

Regrettably true.

How Can You Resist?

Turns out there is at least one thing Lefty doesn’t consider to be food.

Aside from feta, that is.

We continue to give him opportunities to broaden his culinary palette, and he generally adopts them with enthusiasm. Surprisingly, however, yoghurt turned out to be beyond the food event horizon.

Granted, stereotypes about cats and dairy products are greatly overblown. But Rhubarb is an enthusiastic yoghurt eater–even though it causes various sorts of digestive upset–so we rather expected Lefty to give it a try. Nope. A couple of sniffs were followed by burying motions.

And, yes, we know we really shouldn’t be feeding him at the table.

But he’s so polite about his requests. He sits quietly on the floor between our chairs and gives us the “Hey, hoomins, here I am, how about it?” look.

Maybe you could resist.

We can’t.

Dance, Kitteh, Dance!

This time I’ve got a legit excuse for the Friday-Post-On-Saturday thing: It took way longer than I expected to get even somewhat usable photos.

See, Watanuki does the “Gimme a treat, hoomin” dance whenever we hold a Kitteh Partay. Which is several times every evening, as part of the food distribution ritual. And I knew you would all like to see that.

But video just wasn’t happening for some reason. Still not sure why; I need to do some experimenting. And, whatever good you can say about the Pixel 6 camera system, it’s not the speediest thing going when light levels are low enough to require flash.

So it took a couple of nights of attempts to bring you, well, this.

I’ll keep trying on the video. I’m quite sure y’all will love the little hop that goes along with that pose.

He seems graceful and elegant in that shot, doesn’t he? But that’s the first steps of the dance. The end looks rather less exalted.

Enjoy that face in your nightmares, folks.

A Mixed Blessing

Watanuki has been more snuggly than usual lately. Where his usual pattern tends to be to flop on the bed next to one of us (usually Maggie) and demand cuddles, of late he’s been draping himself across our hips or stomachs.

Which is kind of cute, really.

But then there’s that cuddle-demanding thing. He has a very…direct…way of requesting attention.

A quick swat with the paw–claws extended, of course–followed by a soulful gaze…

In fairness to Mr. Knuckles, I should note that some of those holes in my hand are the result of cold weather, frequent handwashing, and even more frequent immersions in various sanitizing fluids. But the longer, more painful ones? Those are all his doing.

The other downside of his cuddliness? Much as it pains me to reveal one of his secret vices, honesty compels me to state that ‘Nuki is a drooler.

Not a demure little drip of happiness.

Oh, no.

Rivers of drool. A downpouring from his lip that could put Victoria Falls to shame.

Fortunately, Maggie has found a solution.

Watanuckles is not amused, but he tolerates the bibs in the interest of attention.

Lacking Ambition

I am currently filled with a lack of ambition so great that it can easily fail to conquer the world. Or even New Jersey, assuming one could find a reason to want to conquer that state.

I did manage to scrounge enough get up and go to climb the stairs to my office, however, so I can bring you this entirely backstory-free portrait of Kaja, smugly ensconced on Kokoro’s heat pad.

Clearly, she has far more ambition than I at this juncture.

Pairings

Feline pairings are volatile.

Lefty and Rhubarb, for example. They rarely fight–both are generally mellow fellows–but neither do they seek out each other’s company.

And yet, sometimes they find themselves thrown together by circumstances.

Circumstances such as “This stair has the best view in the house.”

It was an amicable meeting, and lasted about five minutes before they were both called away on urgent business elsewhere, Rhubarb to check his food bowl and Lefty to collect some lap time.

Other pairings are longer term.

(Ignore that thuggish photobomber in the background.)

Emeraldas and Lefty are frequently found in proximity.

Unsurprising, really. They started along the path to Indoor Cathood together–though Lefty made the transition indoors well before Em–and neither is entirely convinced they’ve been fixed.

Like many couples, they bicker: who gets to sit on which chair in the dining room, who gets first dibs on the gooshy fud, or who is going to wash who’s ears first.

Nevertheless, they’re more often found together than apart, and intertwined tails are not uncommon.

Local Reaction

Sachiko’s reaction to last week’s post.

“Alright, dat’s ‘nough about Big Brudder Nookles. Is my turn now.”

“Attention hoomins! I is Her Batshit Majesty, Princess Pointy Bits. Bow in fronna me an’ worship.”

“Gives me pettings an’ treats, an’ I lets you call me Skittercritter.”

Catching Up with Kaja

According to my notes, it’s been more than half a year since Kaja had a post to herself, and a couple of months since she’s appeared at all.

Note the reflective expression. History suggests that she’s not reflecting on ways to attain world peace, reduce climate change, or anything else that might benefit someone other than her.

Indeed, most likely she’s pondering the whereabouts of dinner, whether she can still swing from the chandelier, or whose hide she should render porous to liquids.

See?