We’ve seen worse, but recent days have seen the thermometer dip to about 40 at night and it takes longer for the sun to warm everything up in the morning.
I took this picture a few weeks ago at about 7 a.m.
That means more cuddling time for Miss Jenny, Marshal Tito and the f****g fascist depicted in the banner, pardon my French…. It also means more noms for calories and Maz has now taught Jenny to wake mommy up for them. Lots of pawing, standing on hips, face-licks with hellish breath, etc…
Tito is the only one not begging for food anymore…
Every so often, I do forget and leave food unattended. Maz never forgets.
Wonder what they dream of… The cat version of “the King and I”? Complete with coo’s and chirrups?
Or maybe they dream of centipede bunnies crapping skittles. Who knows?
Naturally in the real world, cats would devour the bunnies, resulting in… Well, just watch.
It’s 3:40 a.m. and I’m trying to work up a movie review. The boys are pooped and crashed in their spots on the computer desk: Tito in the basket above and Maz in the doggie bed to the side.
Miss Jenny still wants to play and is getting bratty about it. She’s carrying this balled up piece of paper, dropping it in Maz’ bed and steps on him to get a reaction. No dice.
She jumps up to Tito’s lair, almost knocking the desk lamp clipped to the side. I can hear Tito sigh, but he doesn’t budge. Down she comes again, picking up her toy once more.
She bats it into the space between the TV table and the wall and lunges after it, wedging her front end down there while back-pedaling with her rear.
She farts. Oh God she farted.
She comes up victorious with paper in mouth, I guess. I can’t really tell, my eyes watering and the fumes affecting my inner ear: the image and sound on the TV seem out of sync, because sound travels at a different speed after she ‘alters’ the atmosphere. I put my hands down on the desk to steady myself, Jeez… We need to change her diet progressively, but soon. Much depends on this.
All four of our kittoons here have needed a bit of socializing right from the start. It might seem that Maz Whang didn’t, but his universe was turned upside down when we adopted him, as he’d grown up a full year with Sphynx siblings, and a couple other cats and dog.
To be wrenched from his home was traumatic, and the poor beastie gacked and crapped all over himself in the cat carrier on the way to his new digs.
We had to stop, clean him up and comfort him as best we could before driving on.
Sphynxes are social, but on their own terms, which aren’t always easy to decipher. They really are driven by the two related needs of warmth and sustenance, with much playtime in between.
Just like you test the warmth of a baby bottle prior to feeding, you have to ensure your hands are warm enough before petting Maz or he’ll recoil and dart away in shock and horror. I call this “ghosting” because that’s what his reaction makes me think of. We’ve said he’s been very good for Tito (and vice versa), drawing Tito out of his ‘goth’ period following Boober’s passing.
Finally, Tito was able to chase and play to his heart’s content with the streaker, losing excess weight in the process, and bonding with, well, an alien. Even Miss Jenny finds Mazuzu irresistible: both want to nom on Maz, who’ll leap straight up a couple feet in the air and maybe growl if a tooth racks his spine. Mmmmh. Baby back ribs…
Given Tito and Jenny’s “affection” for shoes, I suspect they enjoy Maz’ gym locker smell when it’s time to give him a bath. That’s usually a signal for us to drag him into the tub, but then they love the new cat smell just as much and are all over him again.
Affection? They have it. Tito tricks us into feeding him and leaves the food for Maz, knowing the alien always needs more. Smart Tito…
Maz grooms both Tito and Jenny when he beds down with either in the basket atop the computer desk, later gacking hairballs and meowing his discontent, but what can you do..? Jenny also grooms both, focusing on Maz’ ears in particular, an unexpected boon for us since Maz and Q-tips don’t mix well.
One of the biggest changes is something Maz started and Jenny continues: helping Tito find his voice. Because he never was very vocal at all, this watchful little thing which grew into a big cat. He now trills and coos and meows, although always in the higher pitch of a kitten. And it may be early yet to tell, but I think Jenny’s going to be the same. They both will always sound like kittens.
This may sound like a sign of arrested development but I prefer to think of it as a display of happiness, along with Tito’s joy at being picked up and carried from room to room for a few minutes, purring and discovering a new perspective on his world with wide eyes, rubbing his chin on our cheek as we do so. And Jenny’s happiness at going to sleep hugging my hand to her head, like a pillow.
Our two little feral rescues no longer have to survive on mean streets, they only have to romp and warm each other and their “cousin” from outer space.
Love is in the air and scarcely displaced by Maz and Jenny’s farts. It’s all good.
I have a thing for feral cats, and Rudha-an has one for kittens. Feral kittens, therefore, are our favorites. We’ll never know exactly where they came from, what they went through, why they are so scared of shoes, think of nothing but murder, and yet are so hungry for affection.
Each one has a story but they’ll never tell even if they could, we just wonder as they teach us to live in the moment.
This week, here are some of my favorite photos of our pointy eared people, followed by a clip of very funny story telling. About a sloth. Enjoy.
And now, enjoy this very funny sloth story from Kristen Bell on the “Ellen” show.
The space between drape and window
The magic fluffy blanket sent by Flumptytail
Bach at low volume
Light playing on the ceiling
Being carried around
Shoes with feets in ’em
Food. Preferably stolen
Wearing light fabric shirts loose at the pits
Laying turds astride the edge of the box
Chasing red dots
Hamming it up for pics
Soaking up photons
Hiss of the soda bottle when the cap is popped
Miss Jenny likes:
Farting on Daddy
Chasing the boyz
Grooming the boyz
Chin rubs from Daddy
Chewing on shoes
Daddy talking gibberish
Snuggling with Daddy
Shoes with feets in ’em
Being picked up
Daddy going to work
It’s not that Maz Whang is selfish, exactly… Or even that Tito is an enabler, but… Let’s again face the fact that Maz, a bit like Bad Santa, is an eating, drinking, sh*tting machine, who zeroes in on food with purpose and violence.
He does burn through calories like a three alarm fire and prefers 80 degrees weather.
Tito would even sit on a kitchen chair, looking at us with eyes half-closed, a signal that he wants canned food, only to leave it to Maz once he showed up: in other words tricking us into feeding Maz even more.
But that’s just Tito being the Big Brother, the Paraclete. Three in the morning, Maz digs at my wife, standing on her for effect. Claws are always out, by the way: he always has that sense of urgency about him, like Indiana Jones pressing his face in the wall as he is about to get crushed: “we-are-going-to-die!”
The rule is, though: no canned food until six a.m.
Which means that for Rudha-an, the window from 3 to 6 a.m. is a preview of purgatory, pummeled by this mace wrapped in leather while I (mostly) sleep soundly and justly. The way of the world is the way of the cat, perhaps especially one that looks like David Bowie in “the man who fell to Earth”.
Okay, in truth, Maz is more Richard Widmark than Bowie, but he is a star.
Good thing, then, that Maz’ naked ambitions are checked by the crème brulee that is Miss Jenny. We used to joke that Maz was nuclear powered, watching him streak through the apartment, up and down the furniture and hanging from the cat tower like a monkey. But she matches him step by step and then some. And that’s no small feat.
So while the Whang does his thang, the blue-eyed she-devil chases after him to steal… Well, kisses, actually.
That’s right, she nuzzles both boys and grooms them to the point that we thankfully no longer need to use Q-tips on Maz’ flappers.
Maybe she can be enticed in tackling Maz when he starts his food dance at three in the morning…? No.
Nope, she’ll stand right next to him waiting for noms, maybe even egging him on. She dances to her own tune, that one: if noms aren’t forthcoming, she’ll just force Maz into a high-speed chase or chew on his leg while Tito watches from the shadows in the hallway, always waiting.
So… “Jules and Jim“, or might a “Pact of Steel” be in the works? All I know is even I often wake up from being hit by a high-speed feline cannonball, making me yell “F****G FASCIST!!!” like Jeff Lebowski…
After 40 days and nights of Jenny and Maz farting through the wilderness, which is still ongoing, and being relentlessly tempted to misbehave, Tito finally gives in…
Sure, sure, the other two are so much fun to romp and wrestle with, and so… Nommable.
Sure, Maz steals food and likes to plant his arse and naughty bits in our faces when we sleep (I found an egg roll on the kitchen floor this very morning), while Jenny attacks anything that moves or she thinks is moving, farting up a storm as I lean to pet her.
Tito started by playing alone behind the drapes, as he likes to do. once in a while stopping to see if the others were enticed to come and check him out. This took some time, as Maz was busy looking for something to steal, or “liberate” as he calls it, in the kitchen and Jenny herself was stalking him, fascinated as she is by his spectacular nakedness ( she often looks back at us with a WTF is that look on her face).
Suddenly the noises from the window became a racket and we both turned to see that Tito had climbed up the drapes all the way to the ceiling, his head rotating almost 180 degrees, “exorcist” like. This was a first… The climbing, I mean. I’ve seen him do the head thing before when he’s tripping on catnip.
… Los Bastardos, those high priests of malevolence, Maz “the mace” Whang and Miss Pirate Jenny, continue their re-enactment of “children of Dune” on an 18 by 24 inch stage…
No spice and no worms (thank Ceiling Cat), only disastrous leavings draped or laid in odd places like the edge of the litter box or the floor. I’ve actually watched Maz back up in the box and drop a load on the floor…
I wonder whether Salvador Dali had cats… That could explain this:
Cleaning up these messes is no fun and brings Rudha-an close to horking. Sigh… So I’ll do my best to try and keep my cookies down as I pick up the horrid turds.
Yes, Miss Jenny is a kibble tosser. She has made an art of it. Sadly, our feet are suffering. Kibble just isn’t fun to step on in the dark. It took a while before we saw how she did it. We knew it was her because we never had to clean up kibble before she came to live with us.
One day, I walked into the kitchen and caught her in the act. She stands IN the kibble bowl to eat. When she’s done eating, she makes a large leap to get out and the kibble flies everywhere. What a silly little kitty.