My Crazy Black Cats

“Big Dumb Boy”.  This is a phrase that we seem to utter quite often around our house.  Usually these words are spoken in reference to Quincey…usually.

Last Friday, Nicole and I were about to end the night and head to bed.  Before going upstairs, Nicole opened the closet door to put her blanket away.  As normally happens, Quincey saw the door opened and ran straight in.  He knows the cat toys are in here so he always comes racing when the door is opened.  The isn’t such a bad thing, but he can be hard to get out of the closet.

Since I like to pretend that I know something about cat psychology, I told Nicole exactly how she should handle this situation.  I told her to close the door on him, wait for about a minute, and then open the door.  Cats love to see what is on the other side of a closed door, so after being closed in the closet, he’d be anxious to see what was outside the closet.  About a week ago, this same situation happened and it worked perfectly.  I looked like quite the brilliant cat psychologist.  This time, it didn’t work quite so well…partly because Nicole was anxious to go to bed and didn’t want to wait.  So, she closed the door and asked me to let Quincey out before I went to bed.

Flash forward until the next morning.  Nicole and I both woke up feeling pretty refreshed.  We slept pretty well and were ready to start the new day.  Even though we did sleep well, we decided to be a little bit lazy.  While we were lounging in bed and petting cats, we heard a little cry from Quincey.  He does this often when he can’t find anyone else, so we do what we always do and call to him so he knows where we are.  Normally this is followed by the sound of a sprinting cat.  Strangely, that didn’t happen.  We heard another little cry and called to him again.  Still no racing cat.  Odd.

After a few my cries from Quincey, Nicole turned and looked at me with very wide eyes.  ”You did remember to let Quincey out of the closet, right?!?”  The only way I could reply was to say…”Oops”.

Nicole ran downstairs and let Quincey out of the closet.  He seemed very happy to be free and spent much of the rest of the morning nuzzling us and being cute.  Luckily he doesn’t have it in him to hold a grudge.

So once again the words “Big Dumb Boy” were uttered in our house, but not at Quincey.  This time they were uttered at me…and I deserved it.

There are certain things in my life with cats that totally warm my heart.  One of these things is seeing a kitty in a sunbeam.  There is just something so basic and innocent in this action.  Whatever is going on in my life or in my work, just melts away while looking at a sight like this.  In the picture above, Izzy is totally at peace and completely happy to be in the sun.  She is warm and she is sleepy, and there is absolutely nothing in the world that is out to get her.  This kind of sight also makes me a little wistful.  There are very few times that humans get this kind of absolute bliss.  Life may be good with people we love and interesting times, but there is always the nagging through of something we should be doing, or a bill that will need paying.  Rarely can we truly block all of that from our minds and just enjoy the simple pleasures…like sleeping in a sunbeam.

One other part of this scene is that Izzy had a few easily accessible sunbeams to sleep in, but she chose the sunbeam on the couch next to me.  She was also very happy to let me rest my hand on her belly and give her a good scratch.  She had the bliss of a good sunbeam, and the trust of a companion watching over her and keeping her safe.  This position lasted for a couple of hours…well past the time the sunbeam moved on.  Apparently she really did enjoy the company.

Last night was another typical winter night with the cats.  At the beginning of the night they all tucked in to get warm, and everyone fell asleep.  A few hours later I woke up to Mitzi shoving her head under my chin looking for some attention.  While I pet Mitzi, I could see Quincey stomping on Nicole trying to wake her up.  Eventually he succeeded and got his attention.  As the night went on, this scene played itself out repeatedly with different cats at different times.

This morning, while working from home, I was briefly surrounded by cats.  After a few minutes, I found myself alone.  I didn’t mind as the lack of cats let me focus on my work.  But eventually, I got curious.  The top two picture show what I discovered.  Mitzi, Izzy and Mina were all in the bedroom sleeping in their respective spots.  Quincey was off hiding somewhere else taking his nap.

Seeing the cats all peaceful and sleeping, I could only think of one thing…I should really wake them all up and show them what it is like to have a good sleep ruined by someone seeking attention.  They would certainly deserve it.

Of course, then I took a close look at…

Mitzi…

Mina…

and Izzy.

They are just too darn cute to bother.  I got the camera instead, snapped a few pictures, and let them go back to sleep.  The things we put up with for our cats…

A few weeks ago I mentioned the fun of making myself a turkey sandwich since all of the cats come running.  Nicole found the story cute, but didn’t really believe some of my comments about the attention I get during the process.  A few days ago she made herself a sandwich and got the full show.  When she walked into the kitchen, she was alone.  She opened the refrigerator to grab the bread, meat and cheese.  By the time she turned around, she had four cats on the floor between her and the counter patiently looking up at her.  She didn’t exactly scream, but she did make a loud sound of surprise.  The cats are quick when lunch meat is on the line.

While turkey is the lunch meat most frequently found in our house, we do occasionally take a break and have some ham sandwiches.  For a while, I had felt sorry for the cats.  They can hear the lunch meat package rustling, so they come running, but they don’t get any turkey.  I was almost positive that I had tried giving them a bit of ham and they always sniffed and walked away.

So yesterday I was making myself a sandwich at lunch.  As always, I was surrounded by cats.  Suspecting the usual disappointment, I dropped a bit of ham in front of Mitzi.  To my surprise, it barely touched the ground before it was swallowed whole.  Next I tossed some to Izzy and she did the same thing.  I also tossed ham to Quincey and Mina.  Quincey looked confused, but he did eat the ham.  Mina just sniffed and walked away.  The results were the same the second time around.  The third time around Quincey just walked away and left his ham for Mitzi.  Mitzi and Izzy seemed content to stay as long as I kept throwing ham.  I don’t know when they changed to liking ham, but they definitely do now.  I guess I’ll never have any peace when making myself a sandwich.

Does anyone know of the nutritional value of Deli Select lunch meat for cats?  I’d like to think it isn’t nearly as processed as some other lunch meats, but I would like to find out if it is OK to give them a bit from time to time.

At the end of 2010, I spent a bunch of time at home either on holiday, or working from home.  Nicole also spent a bunch of time at home, so I got to take a good, solid look at life with the two of us and the four cats.  From that look, I had a few thoughts that I wanted to share.  The first thought is that life is good.  I realize this isn’t terribly Earth-shattering, but life with the 2-legged and 4-legged family members is really good.

The second thought is that cat hair really does get everywhere.  I have always understood this in a general sense, but I was reminded of it in more specific ways.  The biggest reminder came from the act of taking down the Christmas tree.  We have an artificial tree, so taking down the tree means removing the ornaments, disassembling the tree, and stuffing it into a bag for storage.  This was all very uneventful until we got down to the bottom section of tree.  As I flipped over the bottom section to fold up the branches, I got a good look at the bottom row of branches.  What I found was that the whole bottom row was covered in cat fur.  Every time the cats run under the tree, or out from under the tree, they brushed along the bottom branches.  Apparently every time they did that, the tree held on to some of their fur.  We had to spend about 15 minutes pulling all of the fur out of the tree.  It really was quite a mess.

The next thought is that anyone who says cats aren’t social animals is incorrect…at least in part.  While Nicole and I were home, we watched a LOT of chasing and playing among the cats.  As the days went on and the cats got used to us being home, the pace of the playing seemed to get more and more frantic.  It really seemed like the cats were so excited to have us home that they couldn’t contain themselves and just played and played.  It was quite a happy site.

My last observation is that I think I finally have a lap cat again.  Since Squeakers passed, I haven’t had a true lap cat.  That may have changed this past week.  On about four separate occasions, Mina tucked herself in next to me with her head on my lap.  This cuddle lasted more than an hour each time.  Mina has also gotten comfortable with me hooking my arm around her – while she is in this position – and continuing to work on my laptop.  This gives us the chance to cuddle for a long time while still allowing me to be productive at work.  On at least half of these occasions, Mina outlasted me and I had to move her off of my lap to use the bathroom or perform some other function.

Yes, life was pretty good in 2010.  I can’t wait to see what is coming in 2011.

Now that winter is here with some seriously cold weather, bedtime has become both the best of times and the worst of times.  A few minutes after crawling under the covers, the parade starts.  The leader of the parade – as always – is Quincey.  He isn’t necessarily cold at this time of night, so he starts things off with love.  After receiving his love, Quincey leaves and Mina takes his place.  Mina really is cold as she quickly tucks her self into a spot by Nicole’s legs.

Shortly after Mina picks her spot, Mitzi chooses hers.  In the Summer months, Mitzi will spend five to ten minutes wandering around the bed letting us pet her and scratch her neck.  In the winder months, she makes a couple of quick passes and then settles in next to my hip.  She will stay in this position until something scares her away, but she always comes back.

Now it is Izzy’s turn to escape the winter chill.  She does this by choosing a spot at the food of the bed between my feet and Nicole’s feet.  Some time during the night she will shift her position to be between the feet of either me or Nicole.  This is where things start getting tough.  Until this point, all of the cats have been in the middle of the bed.  With this move by Izzy, the cats are now invading the people-space.

The final invasion is performed by Quincey who finally gets cold like the rest of the cats.  He alternates between Nicole’s hip and my feet.  Unlike the other cats, he doesn’t just snuggle close to us, he will lay on top of us.

During the rest of the night, the cats perform some odd migrations.  There are usually at least two cats at the foot of the bed, though sometimes there are three.  Like you would expect from cats, they are never in the same orientation that Nicole and I are, instead they are always across the bed to take up as much room as possible.  At one point last night, Nicole was on her side and Izzy was perched on her hip.  I’m not sure how that was comfortable for either of them, but they both seemed to be sleeping soundly.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t awake when Nicole decided to roll over.  I’d love to know if Izzy was able to make a clean dismount, or if she got tossed.

It really is nice to have loving kitties to snuggle up with on a cold winter night.  I just wish they would understand that people aren’t nearly as flexible as cats are and not make us try to contort ourselves around them.

Mina is on her way to going bald.  I know I talked about Mina pulling her fur out before, but things seem to be getting worse.  Nicole and I have started playing a new game called “Find the clump of Mina-fur”.  Between the two of us, we probably pick up 8-10 clumps of fur a day.  These clumps may not be gigantic, but they are definitely big enough to see from across the room.  In addition to the clumps we pick up off the floor, we often find some still partially attached to her side.

To add to this strange behavior, we also often catch Mina eating the fur clumps.  It is not at all uncommon to see her walk by with a bunch of fur sticking out of her mouth.  We always run to her and pull out the fur, but it makes me wonder just how much fur we aren’t finding because it has made its way to her stomach.  She hasn’t been throwing up hairballs very often, so I have no clue what to think.

Mina doesn’t have any bald patches of skin showing yet, but there are definitely places where the fur is quite short.  Bald patches are probably coming next.

We did have Mina in to see the vet for her annual checkup, and no bugs of any kind were found.  We have also been transitioning between two different types of food and the problem seems to have been maintained across the transition.  I’m starting to think that we just have a stressed kitty on our hands.  I don’t know why she is stressed since we try to show her constant love, but I can’t think of any other explanation.  Poor little thing.

I’m going to try something a bit new today.  This will be the first post with video.

Recently my sister included a 6-pack of beer in my birthday gift.  Before I had a chance to put it in the refrigerator, I set it on the counter.  Apparently this made Quincey very interested, as you will see below

Quincey walked around the counter and licked every single bottle for at least half a minute each.  He licked right under the bottle cap, all around the bottle.  Nicole and I watched in amazement while he did this, but we never did figure out why he was doing this.  I didn’t notice anything on the outside of the bottles.  All of the caps were on tight so nothing was leaking.  I have absolutely no explanation for this.

Christmas is always a fun time of year at my house.  We put up a tree and put out a few other Christmas decorations to get a nice, festive feel in the house.  Of course, in cat-world, that means a whole bunch of new toys.  The first picture shows Mitzi and Quincey under the Christmas tree.  We have a steady stream of cats under the tree, but Mitzi and Quincey spend the most time under there.  Since Mitzi is generally anti-social, I think the tree gives her a place to hide and be secure.  She sits very calmly under the tree and enjoys the quiet.

Quincey, on the other hand, does not sit quietly.  The tree itself brings great joy as he rubs his face on the branches and nibbles on the needles.  Since our tree is fake, the nibbling of the needles produces interesting results.  Normally he coughs them out before swallowing.  Even better than the tree is the ornaments.  Every now and then Quincey gets a little excited and reaches up for an ornament.  He will bat it around and will occasionally pull it off the tree.  Fortunately for us, he seems to like the plain “filler” bulbs and not the special ornaments.  He generally responds when we yell at him, but we do still occasionally see him on two legs with his arms reaching as high into the tree as he can.  I’m still waiting for the first time he lifts his back feet off the ground and the whole tree comes down.

This second picture is of Mitzi in front of the tree with a Santa bear.  Look how nicely she is posing with the bear for a picture.  Christmas-time gives us some of the best photos of the cats.  Of course, cats are still cats and they aren’t always the cute little angels they appear to be.  We tried to get a picture of Quincey in the same pose for the third picture.  Not surprisingly, he confused the instruction “pose with” with “eat the” Santa bear.

Before I get into the regular post, I’d like to give a short update on the critter in the wall story.  According to the exterminator, there is almost no way we have anything bigger than a mouse in the wall.  I don’t know how something that small can make so much noise, but maybe being in a hollow wall really does amplify the sound.  We didn’t hear much noise last night, so either it got unstuck (and hopefully to the bait) or it is now too weak to move.  We still may have to cut it out of the wall.  Now on to our regular post.

It struck me yesterday how much accidental abuse our cats take.  Actually, it struck me at about the same time I punched Quincey in the head.  The head-punch was, of course, accidental.  I was in the closet getting dressed for work and Quincey was in the closet eating the laces on my shoes.  I called to him a few times to leave the laces along, but he didn’t listen.  I finally bent down to pick him up and move him away from my shoes, but he decided to run away at that same moment.  The end result was me swinging me hand in to grab him, and him running away right into my hand.

I doubt this contact hurt much, but Quincey still squeaked and ran away from me.  I tried to give him a hug and apologize, but he wouldn’t let me close to him.  I’m not sure if he was mad at me, or if he thought we were playing.  Either way, I felt pretty bad.

Quincey seems to be involved in most of the punches, but all of the cats get kicked on occasion.  They are always following us around and settling down in the middle of the floor, so we can’t help but kick them on occasion.  So far, I don’t believe anyone has actually stepped on a cat, but I’m sure that will happen eventually.

I really wonder how the cats feel about these moments of accidental abuse.  Do they feel surprised and hurt?  These actions are less rough than how they play with each other, but they don’t generally get this kind of contact from the humans.  Do they realize that they were in the way and accept the contact?  That sounds like a lot of reasoning to expect from a cat.  Does it just not register at all?  I’d like to hope this is the case.

Whether the cats feel bad or not, I certainly feel bad whenever one of these events happen.  I never want to show the cats anything other than love, and I have a hard time believing that a head-punch can be love.