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You are viewing the most recent 15 entries December 7th, 200810:41 pm: Cat politics, etc
Picture this: Bob is scratching the side of her head. Scritch-scritch-scritch. Wolf is sitting beside her, watching her quite intently. Bob stops scritching, sees Wolf watching her, hisses and whacks him. Wolf snarls and leaps, knocking Bob over (he's a lot bigger than her these days, have I mentioned this?) and they spend about a minute with Wolf's paws and jaws locked in Bob and Bob snarling and kicking at Wolf. Bob escapes from Wolf's necklock, snarls at Wolf, and heads for the door, Wolf following close behind. No blood drawn: still just cat politics. Current Mood:  tired , cat politics, wolf
September 17th, 200804:50 pm: Coffee and tiny doughnut
I have just had a mug of coffee and a tiny sugary ring doughnut. The coffee was excellent: the doughnut mediocre: but the combination was lovely. I am due to go to the gym tonight. I packed a Stoats bar to snack on to avoid hunger. Now why shouldn't the healthy snack of a Stoats porridge bar just kind of cancel out the unhealthy irresistibleness of, um... doughnut? (I'd had another earlier with my lunch, so I already knew they were slightly mediocre. I have high standards about doughnuts, on the, I feel, perfectly rational grounds that anything that bad for you really ought to be delicious. I feel the same way about mince pies.) I had to go home again right after lunch to pick up a file I needed I thought I had emailed to myself, and as it looked to be set dry for the afternoon, and both Bob and Wolf wanted to go out, I left them both sitting on the steps, looking a bit surprised... they haven't both been outdoors at once in ages, it seems. I have updates about Bob, but they can wait till post-gym. Current Mood: weird , cat politics, coffee, food politics, gym membership, wolf
June 27th, 200805:47 pm: Hee!
 By the way, I have discovered who the dominant cat in my household is: yup, still Bob, even if Wolf's bigger. Bob growls: Wolf gets out of the way. Current Mood: determined not to worry , cat politics, wolf
June 11th, 200811:09 am: What I did already this morning...
This morning, besides all the usual things I meant to do (get up, have breakfast, make/pack lunch), I meant to water my garden. I also had to call the vet, because when I took Bob in for her booster shot and check-up yesterday, she'd lost a pound (in weight: I don't let her carry cash) and both the vet and I regarded this as cause for alarm and blood tests. The reason I meant to water my garden is that I did the last planting of clover I'll do this year, last night. (My garden is looking good, by the way, for an unfinished project: the decorative grass is high and seeding, the army of daisies is out and lovely, I have achieved control over the dandelions, the clover from last year is flourishing and beginning to flower, and in the bare patches of earth where I planted clover in May, I am finally beginning to see tiny green sprouts. Also, I think I am going to have a flourishing crop of sunflowers. Someone said what I was after in my garden was not "lawn" but "meadow", and that's exactly right: I want a pocket meadow.) So just before nine, I went out, and three of my neighbours were standing in the street: which is odd and unusual. They were all talking to each other. Still more odd. There was an injured fox sheltering under the bush at the corner of my garden by the house: it had been in the next-door garden, and gone through to my garden when a neighbour approached it. She said that the side of its face was battered and swollen and bloody. (And my idiot kitten Wolf had gone right up to it, practically nose-to-nose: good thing it wasn't feeling good, or Wolf would have learned the hard way that foxes are not cat toys.) The SSPCA had been called and had said they would come. Well, that cut out watering my garden, since I was not about to wave a hose around near where the fox was sheltering. So I went back into the house and phoned the vet, and after some faffing about, I got to speak to him. Bob has thyroid trouble. Just like Cally did. Only, unlike Cally, she is still in reasonably good shape - so an operation may be possible. (I am wholeheartedly grateful to my skinflint decision to put off her booster shot till June, since if I'd taken her in December - which I'd decided not to on the basis that I wanted to have Wolf and Bob's booster shots due six months apart - the weight loss probably wouldn't have shown up, and she'd probably have gone undiagnosed till either the weight loss got significant enough not to miss it even through her fluffiness, or till the December checkup.) Anyway. I will be going to see the vet next week to discuss the options - operation, medication, both. I came out of the house again, to head off to work without watering the garden, and the fox was in the middle of my garden. It was a big one, and - I don't recall ever seeing a live fox in broad daylight before - looked startlingly orange-red against my green meadow. I couldn't see any injury. It stood there for less than a minute, and then was out of the garden and down the road. It encountered Bob on the way, the neighbours in the road tell me, but both cat and fox looked startled and avoided each other. So, well: I watered the garden. The SSPCA, who'd been called to deal with what the neighbour feared was a mortally injured fox, arrived while I was watering, and I told them what I'd seen: heading down the street, moving briskly. They were quite good-humoured about it, and apologetic for not getting there sooner ("the traffic", they said.) I went over the road after that to tell the neighbour whose daughter is in love with Bob about the vet's diagnosis; to emphasise that Bob will be fine - will most likely live for several years, I told her, to pass on to her daughter - but that she'll probably have to have regular medication, and she will have to be on a proper diet. I know her daughter feeds Bob treats - bits of meat, cheese for all I know: and I know her daughter adores Bob. For both reasons, I want her mother to explain properly that Bob needs to eat proper cat food only, no more filling up on scraps: and I wanted the wee girl to know that, while Bob isn't well, she's likely to be fine for several more years. And then I went to work. Both Bob and Wolf are in the house, having their daily dominance fight. Yay. Current Mood: contemplative , cat politics, garden record, worrying about my cats
May 25th, 200811:32 am: OMG. Wolf is a sexual harasser!
I was working out that as I got Wolf on 7th August, and he was six weeks old then, that puts his birthday at about 25th June - so I can call him a midsummer cat and remember his birthday that way. He is very nearly a year old, and he appears to be going through whatever kind of puberty a castrated cat can go through, housed with a human and a female cat who was spayed 10 years ago (Bob was 8 when I got her in December 2005: I keep not quite wanting to do the arithmetic, but that makes her 11 this year). This morning, Bob was curled up around my hand and I was petting her lovely furry tummy and she was purring happily - and Wolf leaped up on the bed, eyed us both, did some sniffing around Bob's bum (which Bob ignored) and then he settled himself down behind her, which Bob also ignored... and then he bit her on the back of the neck and clung to her, which she growled at. Eventually he got bored and let go, and now he's sitting on the windowsill chirping at the birds, but... Oh, Wolf. ( more seriously )Current Mood: less amused than you'd think , cat politics, feminism, wolf
May 18th, 200802:17 pm: The problem with going out, I find
...is that having got home, I hate to leave again. *hugs home* My catsitter, whom I will call Barbara Taylor Bradford because that isn't remotely her name, texted me on Monday night when I was sitting in Dresden's finest vegetarian restaurant (or at least, as vegetarian as a restaurant gets in Germany) eating the most glorious stinging-nettle soup (tastes like watercress) and about to eat the most delicious gnocchi-and-pear bake, drinking Normandy cider, er, I'm getting distracted, aren't I? Yes, the food was great. Anyway, BTB texted me, to ask if she could let Bob out because she was beginning to feel like such a bad guy. (I am familiar with Bob's heartrending flower-like face held up to you with big beseeching eyes, and also her heartrending wails of despair: it's not that she's loud, it's that she's so pathetic...). And I had to say no. Because I was afraid that BTB would never be able to get Bob back: my fluffy cat is the beloved of the neighbourhood. Yesterday, there was a knocking at the door, and when I opened it, I found four small children all sitting round Bob, who was letting them stroke her. As soon as I opened the door, she fled inside, and they asked "Can we come in?" to which I said "No," and not only because the house was a mess - frankly, I shouldn't really care about that: I said "No" because I didn't want to be bothered, and I didn't think Bob wanted to be bothered! Anyway, the cats seem to have recovered their equilibrium, and are going out and going in as usual. While I am clinging to the walls of my home like a veritable octopus. Must. Go. Out! ( vegetarian restaurant under cut )Current Mood: recumbent , just my life really, photos
April 30th, 200802:54 pm: *yawn*
Yesterday, I drank far too much coffee. I had my last cup sometime before 4pm, and decided that Wednesday was going to be a caffeine-free day. No one's done my meme. It was a silly meme, but it made me happy. oh well. I got chocolate and a book from ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) afrai yesterday! But no clover seeds. Wail. Sadness. Loss. Why will no one sell me/send me clover seeds? It is very disturbing. I am drinking caffeine-free tea. With milk. It is quite nice. My socks got very wet this morning, and I am walking around the office barefoot. So far no one has commented, and I feel that no one may have noticed. I hate wearing damp socks. I am tired. *yawn* It is probably best not to drink coffee for this reason. Last night when I came back, my cats both slept on my bed. Wolf slept on my feet, or rather on my legs, and Bob was curled up by my right hand readily available for petting. Then Bob realised where Wolf was and growled and growled and moved further up the bed and curled up on the part of the duvet covering my shoulder. She wanted to make clear I was hers. It's rather sweet. Sort of. More decaf tea, I think. Current Mood: tired , not drinking coffee, tea
January 22nd, 200611:17 pm: Cat politics, 9
My cats get fed either end of the kitchen, at the same time. When each cat has eaten half of the food I put in her bowl, she leaves her bowl and goes to the other cat's bowl to see what I gave her. It's practically ballet. Current Mood: amused December 9th, 200511:35 pm: Cat politics 2: Have I Got News For You
I am about to go to sleep. I watched Have I Got News For You with Bob lying on my chest: meantime Gallus had occupied the chair in front of my computer upstairs. Now I am upstairs and the two of them are having a quiet stary confrontation on the upstairs landing, punctuated by occasional growls. (Mostly from Gallus.) I'm glad livejournal reminded me about Have I Got News For You, because not only did Paul tell Ian "We're still on for the 20th, then?" which by the way was a fib, because they're not one of the half-dozen couples getting a civil partnership in Scotland (though I suppose they could be among the couples getting registered in Northern Ireland) but also Ian Hislop told Lorraine Kelly that her comments about "what boys do" made this the most sexist programme he'd ever been on. This from the sperm of Satan... ( a poll )Tags: bob, cat politics, gallus, have i got news for you
07:37 pm: Cat politics 1: Bob and Gallus Meet
One of the things I forgot to do before I went to Wales was to buy another litter tray. Or two more food bowls, come to that. A Saturday shopping trip looks like a plan. ( cut for length )I think I need a cat politics icon. However, as nobody has killed anybody yet, or even looked like they wanted to, I'm going to go for my lovely Who icon. Tags: bob, cat politics, gallus
December 8th, 200507:28 pm: How do you get to Wales in a train?
Book them seats in Weekend First and hope the carriage isn't too full. / Via Carlisle, Crewe, and Cardiff. The last hour of the 8 hour trip is a slow stopping train that the locals use to get from Cardiff Central to any of the villages down the valley: where I am staying, Treherbert, is the last village on the line. I shall be coming home tomorrow, another 8 hour trip, accompanied by a small fluffy 8-year-old cat who was once (by heartless owners) named Levi, and named anew Bobby (by her rescuers - she lost her tail in a car accident a few years ago) and I think I shall call her Bob. It's a nice name, Bob. She is quite terribly pretty, and very territorial (she sits on my lap growling at any of the other cats who think they can trespass there). I have no idea how Gallus is going to react to her, or she to Gallus. Wish us all luck. It's lovely here. Full of hills and sheep and rain. And cats. And dogs. Not a dog person, but if any dogs could persuade me otherwise, it would be these three white Alsatians, Ghost, Freya, and Nemo. Especially Ghost: he's such a big handsome friendly lummox of a dog. It took me two days, but I persuaded them I did not like to be jumped up on. Tags: bob, cat politics, gallus, wales
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